The Elysian
by MelonMochi
Summary: If this was his fate, to be branded a monster and cast into the darkness beneath the streets, to save his friends, his brother, from the pain and torment he will surely cause them, then fine, he will face whatever horrors await him below. He will become a demon, don the shackles, writhe in the stone prison with his brethren, if only to see Yukio happy. Dystopian AU.
1. Introduction

**This is an author's note. If you would like to read the actual story, please click to the next chapter and enjoy!**

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**Rules of The Elysian For Your Convenience  
**No hoarding food.  
No extra light sources.  
No sharing of tags, food, or supplies.  
No books, journals, writing utensils, or paints.  
No excess water. The center fountain will satisfy your needs.  
Obey curfew.  
Only sleep in your assigned home.  
One pillow and one quilted throw per home.  
Tags may be exchanged for clothes, medicine, luxury items, or meals. One item per tag.  
You may not trade in your own tag. If you have no tags, you will be executed.  
Exorcist tags may be traded for two items. The exorcist named must be dead.  
The king is exempt.

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Hi there! Thank you for clicking! There's some stuff that I want to explain about the story that doesn't fit into the description, so if you'll please take a moment to read this, I would appreciate it! First, this is a **DYSTOPIAN AU** and contains **OOC** as well as a **PLETHORA OF OCs**. I'll do my best to keep everyone as in character as possible, but I'm not very good at it, so don't expect good characterization.

And, just in case you want to read that again, here it is bold and in capital letters: **Everyone in this story will be OUT OF CHARACTER. **If you do decide to continue reading in spite of this, I'm sorry in advance.

I'm a fairly new writer and this story includes a lot of firsts for me, so please understand. This is my first time writing in third person and first time working with multiple perspectives. I took the time to try and make my outlines and notes as organized as possible, but I've never done a project this big before. Please excuse me if I make mistakes, but please don't be afraid to bring them to my attention.

This story is a rewrite and continuation of a short called _Elysium_. That was written in a weekend for me to practice pacing and I had no intention of coming back to it. And yet, here I am! Anyway, it doesn't matter whether you read _Elysium_ since this is a complete rewrite, but that's entirely up to you.

I'm not sure how descriptive I'll get with my purple prose (depends on the character witnessing the event I think) but if I DO go overboard, the rating will be bumped to M for gore and violence.

Now, there are four parts to the prologue. The first part is during Rin's trail, the second right after Amai's attack on the camp, and parts three and four take place right before the actual story begins (six months after the camping incident.)

And that's all I have. If I think of anything else, I'll be sure to come back and add it here. Thanks to Aneki Okumura for her help! And thank you to everyone who submitted their characters! I hope I do them justice.

Enjoy!

**Blue Exorcist belongs to Katou Kazue and Co.**


	2. a boy who is not a hero

**Okumura, Rin  
****a boy who is not a hero  
****Prelude to The Elysian #1  
**Rin knew he was going to die.

His head swam like he was dreaming and, for a moment, he wished that he was, that soon he would wake to the scolding eyes of his brother and the softness of his familiar's fur. But a dagger of light pierced his eyes and he was brought back to a cruel reality.

Beyond the tower door was a great, circular hall bathed in gold and fanciful red curtains. Balcony upon balcony of onlookers stared down at them, their low, disgusted voices a gentle hum in the background. Three figures in large, overembellished robes sat at the center of the room on an elegant dias decorated to stand out above the others. Before them was the stand of the accused, almost equal in level to their prudent gazes. And above, high above on a level all their own, danced the ornate statues of cherubs. They gazed down at him as he entered the brightened courtroom, perfect faces twisted with small smiles, amused by his suffering.

A rough shove forced him to his knees. Before he could react, the poorly-dressed Paladin used his thick blade to sever the tendon in his ankle. He cried out and raised his head just enough to watch the headmaster climb the steps to the stand. The voice of the judge echoed off golden walls, silencing the room, but Rin paid little attention to their discussion, overwhelmed by the faces of his friends. He burned their expressions into his mind, vowing never to forget how they looked at him: the creases in Suguro's forehead, the tears that stained Shiemi's cheeks, the back of his brother's head as he led the injured class across the bridge. No matter what became of him after this, their images would always be in his memory, a permanent reminder of how badly he'd hurt them.

He wanted to protect them, but, in this feeble state of mind, he had relied on the power of his flames, becoming the demon everyone loathed. Those he loved now regarded him with hatred and fear. He just wanted friends, a group of people to tell him that he mattered in their small worlds. He just wanted Yukio to smile at him, tell him '_good job_' or '_I'm proud of you_'. But that reality, like so many things, was torn from him.

A wave of angry murmurs ripped him from his piteous thoughts until he could no longer stand the noise.

"**Shut _up_!**" The flames licked at him gingerly, encouraging him, filling his mind with the warmth of their presence. He could feel himself slipping into their grasp, falling deeper into their radiating heat, but he swallowed hard and regained his composure. They knew nothing of who he truly was, unable to see past the demon blood in his veins, so he told them; he let his mouth run uncontrolled, clenching his fists so tight he feared they would bleed. Rin was not a monster, not a tool, not a hero. He was Rin, nothing more than a penitent child.

"_Murderer_!" One of the priests to his left stood abruptly, face reddened with anger and hatred. "This _demon_ killed my family! And you want to make him an _exorcist_? He'll kill us all! **Execute** him! It's what he deserves!" His words were greeted by a sudden cacophony of agreement. Their cries cut through him, tore open an orifice so deep in his heart the intangible impact made him tremble.

"Monster!"

"Demon!"

"Vile creature!"

"_Kill him_!"

Rin was a half-demon, torn between power and his humanity – he knew this and didn't need anyone to remind him. He didn't want to die because of it, he just wanted forgiveness, to see his friends smile and laugh again. But was redemption even possible for such a creature? Did they feel no shame defining Rin by his flames, by that which he always found abhorrent, by what bifurcated his mind and soul? Would they be more merciful if he begged for his life? And if not, would they conduct his execution in private, away from the rueful eyes of spectators? Would his brother attend? No, surely not. Yet, even if he did, Rin couldn't imagine Yukio, his brother who so readily walked away from him, who did not complain when they dragged him away, with tears filling his eyes. Would he be relieved by his death, then, happy he no longer had to worry about protecting his pathetic, half-demon brother?

_No_, he told himself, _no, Yukio loves you, you idiot_. But he couldn't believe it.

"Is this what our Order has been reduced to?" He gazed up at the Grigori's platform and watched, amazed, as one of them removed his headdress.

"_Doctor_, court is in session! Save your opinions for later!"

"The verdict does not belong to you, _Chief of Justice_." The man fanned himself with a hand, uncomfortable from the heat caused by the oddly shaped mask he wore. "Not when the pillars of our organization will stoop so low as to blame a child for his father's actions." Even when Rin squinted, he couldn't clearly make out the of features the Grigori's face, but could easily see a stark contrast between his white hair and the dark shade of his skin. "Shame on all of you." His eyes fell on Mephisto. "But you most of all, Sir Pheles." He began to pace the balcony as he spoke, trailing a hand delicately against the railing. "Demon or not, the boy that grovels at your feet is nothing more than a child. You would sooner make him your pawn than unleash his _true potential_, as you so proudly put it."

Mephisto tittered, "My wager is-"

"_Your_ wager is silly and pointless. What would the Order gain from placing the bastard of Satan in a high school? Why should we let him run free as an exorcist?"

"I have served the Order for two hundred years. Don't you think you owe me a measure of trust?"

"Absolutely not." His response was quick and curt, an authentic smile spreading across his face.

The headmaster stiffened, if only slightly, but Rin could see fists clenched behind his back, his anxiety concealed to the members of the court. "Then what do _you_ propose, _doctor_?" He spoke firmly and cruelly, uncharacteristic of his flamboyant behavior.

"I will give results, my dear friend, faster than you with your porcelain promise of making the boy a weapon," he sneered, a hint of a mocking tone in his voice. "I propose we send him to the Elysian!"

Hushed mutters gripped the crowd once more and Rin saw nods of approval and satisfied smiles. His insides turned to knots as he glanced wildly around the room. Where were they going to send him? What were they talking about? Were they going to kill him?

He twisted around to the man holding a sword to his foot. "What's the Elysian?" The Paladin glared down at him without a word. Confused, Rin turned his eyes back to the doctor and watched as he descended one of the staircases that led to the center balcony.

The doctor noticed Rin's unease, his furrowed brow and trembling lips. "Do you like the name?" He spoke only to the half-demon now, his robe billowing with his steady movements. "I named it after this lovely hotel I stayed at while in the States." He was closer now and Rin could see that his hair was not white from age. It was slicked back messily, a thick, elegant curl dangling on the bridge of his nose to compliment his appearance. "Think of it like that: a luxurious hotel in the form of an underground city. Demons like yourself are allowed to roam free and we offer a variety of food, clean water, and protection." The doctor approached the kneeling boy without a hint of fear or disgust. Rin noticed his eyes were purple, a strange yet befitting color. "Protection from exorcists and yourself. I only ask that, in return, you allow me to perform harmless procedures for our research."

Is that what they wanted, to poke and prod his flesh until it bled and burned? To inject things into him, remove precious things from him, again and again and again until they had their desired results? He was no stranger to what exorcists did to demons and it worried him. His stomach turned to stone and his eyes widened. Fear writhed in his chest, gripped his heart with its icy fingers. Rin wished he could hide behind a smile, behind a little lie, that his emotions weren't painted so plainly on his face, but the doctor wasn't Yukio and couldn't be fooled as easily.

"I-I... I don't... I don't want to," Rin replied miserably. Only once in his life had he ever felt so scared, so alone, so little. _Dad...I don't want to die._

"Don't worry," he said softly, bending one knee to lower himself to Rin's level. "I won't hurt you." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, tender and comforting. "There's nothing for you to be afraid of, my dear. Can't you see the good in this? Don't you want to protect your friends and family?" He nodded slowly at the doctor's words. "I promise you will be safe with me, Rin. And I promise the information we gather from the city will benefit both man and demon." Rin didn't understand, but the doctor's smile was warm and welcoming, and he lost himself in the compassion held in his expression.

Shura stepped forward, less than pleased by his empty words and petty promises. "Rin, don't trust him. Death is a better option."

The Paladin pulled her back with a curt tug. "Be quiet."

It was true that Rin didn't want to join the city, to be trapped in an underground prison with other demons. He wanted to go back to True Cross Academy, wake up to Yukio's groggy smile, hear Suguro's irritated retorts, make Shiemi laugh, watch Izumo flip her pretty hair, _that's_ what he wanted, not this. But, if his only other option was death, what choice did he have? Rin refused to die, but whether to spite them or because he was frightened, he would never know. "I... I don't..." He hung his head. "I don't..." he repeated with a trembling voice, "Yukio," and then all his words were gone and, again, he was a child.

"Yukio is your twin brother, correct?" He nodded once. "I will make sure he comes for a visit before the year is over."

"That's _enough_, Demetri." The sound of Mephisto's voice seemed to startle them all. He descended the staircase, hands still clenched behind his back. "No more games."

"Games?" He tilted his head innocently, regarding the headmaster with a grin that appeared more sinister than sincere. "I'm a doctor, Sir Pheles. I don't play games."

"All in favor of the Elysian?" There was a heavy pause as every single member of the audience raised his hand. "Then it is settled. The boy will join the demon city." A gavel against a sound block indicated the end of the proceeding.

"Thank you, Arthur. I will take him from here." He waved at the Paladin, dismissing him.

"You're a monster," Shura spat, but Arthur grabbed her roughly and dragged her away.

He paid no attention to them as they exited the courtroom. "Unfortunately, Rin, you'll have to wait in a cage with the other demons until we're ready to leave." The doctor, so gentle and sure with his hands, raised him to his feet. "I am not without mercy, my dear boy. Let's get you fed and fixed up."

Out of the corner of his eye, Rin thought he saw Mephisto scowling at the doctor as they passed. But, when he looked, the headmaster had his back to them.


	3. to the slaughter

**Amaymon, Demon King of Earth  
****to the slaughter  
****Prelude to The Elysian #2  
**Damn it.

Damn this body, this husk of flesh and bone so easily ruined by steel and fire. And **damn** this heart, this dead thing that pounded in his chest, that ached and writhed for his brother's affection.

**Damn it, damn it all!**

An _overwhelming_ difference? How **dare** he. How dare his Aniue insult him, dutiful little Otouto who so easily bent his knees in submission, who so readily killed, so quickly became a pawn in his games. Hadn't he done everything that was asked of him? Hadn't he deserved even the slightest bit of recognition? But no, the pig found his pathetic, half-demon brother more powerful than him, blamed little Amaimon for his precious school's destruction and threw him into the blackness of this prison.

**Damn him!**

He cursed Aniue with all his strength, but it did not lower the steel spikes that held him in place.

Time passed differently here, under Aniue's influence. This was his punishment and time marched on slowly. His boredom began to drive him mad, irritate him, until he could no longer stand the silence, filled only by the irrevocable beating of his wretched heart. How it angered him, made him want to tear it from his body and crush it under his foot, but every movement, no matter how small, brought immense pain. Once, he had stopped struggling long enough to attempt sleep, but the anger that boiled his blood would not let him rest. And so he was forced to wait, listening quietly to his brother's incessant ramblings.

Why did he love humans so much? Why did he find weakness in them charming and yet abhorrent in him? What more did he have to do to gain his brother's attention? He even pretended to take an interest in Aniue's stupid games, his cartoons, his silly, colorful, anime collection, but no matter what he did or how hard he tried to please him, big brother hardly acknowledged him. He tossed Amaimon aside when he was not needed, trapped him in a dark prison while his half-human brother got to roam free. He could not fathom his brother's logic. It wasn't fair. It _wasn't_ and he cursed them all!

And then his spikes vanished with an abruptness that startled him. He stumbled to his knees, suddenly wishing he were anywhere but here.

A steel spike traced his spine. Up and down, tenderly as to not further damage his broken skin and burned clothes. The languid sensation made him feel as though something dead were slithering over his naked skin.

"Hello, your highness," a voice whispered in his ear, sickening and sinister. "How have you been?"

He stood, shoving the doctor away. How he was able to slip past Aniue's barriers was beyond his comprehension. Somehow, he knew about all their secret chambers. "Get out of here," he spat in a voice hoarse with disuse.

Demetri raised the demon's chin with the tip of the elongated spike, examining the burns on his cheek. "Ah, you've been in a fight with Rin, I presume?"

Amaimon smacked it away and glared. The brash movement of his brow made it bleed again. "What do you want?" The taste of anger was heavy on his tongue, though he could not have said if he was angrier with Aniue for his folly or Demetri for his imprudence. He spat out a mouthful of blood, coppery and thick.

He drove the head of the spike into the palpable ground and brushed his hands on the white of his lab coat. His fingers left crimson streaks. "I am here to ask for a favor." No response. "Of course, it will not come without its rewards. I am not your brother, you see-"

"**Shut up!**" He slammed a fist against the dark walls of his prison, causing the shadows that engulfed them to rattle and groan. "Do not mock Aniue!"

The doctor's expression darkened, though the corners of his lips twitched with satisfaction. "My dear king, are you that afraid of compensation? What has your brother ever done to repay you?" Amaimon knew the answer, hated it, and would never say it. It would only prove the existence of that abhorrent weakness Aniue saw, prove that he received nothing in return for his servitude and never would, that he was stupid, obsessed, childish. "Mephisto tosses you away like trash, Your Grace." He said it anyway, knowing it would make the demon furious. "Isn't it time for you to don a proper crown?"

A proper crown? _Pfft_. The doctor promised him a crown of copper, no less, worthless yet dazzling.

He blanked and crossed his arms. "Do you take me for a fool, Demetri?"

"Uh, a very wroth one, yes."

"Get out of my sight!"

"Come now, your highness, I-"

"You can take your crown and shove it up your ass, doctor."

Oh, how he loved the Earth King: he never learned to soften his speech, to flatter, to be careful; he said what he thought and those that did not like it could be damned. It was something his older brother lacked. "If you do not want a crown, I will give you something else."

"Piss off."

"You hate Rin, don't you?" Amaimon cocked his head, curiosity piqued by his words. Pleased, Demetri continued, "Wouldn't it just be lovely if you could hurt him like he hurt you? Make him an embarrassment?" No response. "I will give you that opportunity, Your Grace. I have torn Rin from your brother's grasp and I plan on making him a monster, a 'savior of Assiah', if you will. Help me break him, my king, and he is yours." The doctor smiled at him. "And after, use Rin to gain control of Assiah for yourself. Imagine how you'll impress your brothers, your father."

"My _father_ means nothing to me." Demetri shrugged.

He stared at the doctor, searching for something, something he was trying to hide, but his face showed so little it might have been carved of stone. Still, he considered Demetri's words – no, lies, lies delivered with such an air of nonchalance that any fool who was not a demon would believe them. Part of Amaimon didn't care that they were lies; he wanted to play their little game too, defeat the doctor and make Aniue proud, but only if he could make the rules and quit when he grew bored.

"What do you want me to do?" The doctor's smile widened.

"Make me a city. I have constructed a building of steel above a beautiful cave and I need you to carve it out, with homes and a central plaza, a fountain with running water and a place to hang light fixtures. Oh, an elevator shaft and thick, impenetrable walls to prevent escape. A simple task for a king of earth such as yourself."

_Too simple_, he thought.

"And the people?"

Demetri suddenly became excited. "_That_ is the best part, my king. They will all be demons, naturally." He removed a vial of faintly glowing, pink liquid from his stained lab coat. "With this, their minds will be shackled and their memories fractal! And, once this irrevocable threshold is crossed, they will worship any reality thrust upon them!"

"Then thrust _me_ upon them," he commanded. They would be nothing but masses of noisy flesh if they could not fear him, worship him, grovel like maggots at his feet. He would sooner become a king of dust than a king of pigs.

But the doctor was not such a fool as to promise that. "You must do that yourself, my dear king. It is, after all, a part of the fun." He tucked the vial away. "Sound fair? You build the playpen and I shall bring your toys to you."

He exploded.

Toys? **Toys!?** He was perfectly capable of getting his own fucking toys. To think, this beast, this swine who looked at him with such perverse longing, such distasteful desire, could **dare** insult him like this! Become his king for this pig to bring his toys to him? _Hah_! What ignorance.

"I am not your pawn! Give me what I ask or I will burn the eyes from your face. I will let them melt, like jelly, down your cheeks."

In a single, swift motion, the doctor impaled his king in the throat with the spike so he could no longer speak. "The city you build will belong to you, Your Grace. I'll even allow you to set up rules for the demons." His smile vanished, replaced by something sick and twisted and malicious. "You will accept my generous offer, lest you become a victim of the city yourself."

He gagged, nodding.

"Excellent!" The doctor discarded the spike. "Come then. I will not have my king rule with such a broken face."

"...May the rats eat your eyes, _doctor_," he spat the word, making it a curse.

He sneered, "You'll find no rats in my city, your highness."


	4. it's not me, it's you

**Okumura, Yukio  
****it's not me, it's you  
****Prelude to The Elysian #3  
**It was almost as if Rin had died.

He dragged his feet up the stairs, pretending to be engrossed by the papers in his hands, taking his time answering the headmaster's summons. It had been a hard day for him and an even harder year, and he knew it would only get worse.

A small group of girls giggled as he passed. The young teacher tensed, hoping they would notice the papers hiding his face and leave him alone. "Hello, Okumura!"

He paused long enough to acknowledge them. "Uh, hello." Yukio struggled to force a smile, but it was becoming harder and harder with every passing day. Each time he attempted a happy expression, a cold chill pierced his heart and wiped it quickly from his face.

But the world moved on without Rin. He still had a job to do, students to teach, missions to complete, assignments to finish, a happy facade to keep. His students needed to see him smile, regardless of how difficult it was to face them, if only for their sanity. Everyone took it hard when they learned that Rin had departed for the city, blamed themselves for his imprisonment, as if their treatment of him could've prevented the outcome. Especially Suguro. Yukio would oftentimes catch him staring at his brother's empty seat with a sullen expression or arrive to class with dark bags heavy under his eyes, like he hadn't slept the night before. They spoke about it once, but all the boy said was, '_I shouldn't have yelled at him like that_.'

Time seemed to pass far too quickly and soon all Rin's friends began to forget about him. Things returned to normal as the cram school received more students and everyone moved on with their lives; everyone except Yukio.

Yukio hated them for forgetting, hated Rin for being born a demon, for killing their father, for forcing demons on him as a child, for condemning himself in an underground city on the other side of the world, for everything. It was all his fault and he _hated_ him. And yet, missed him dearly. Yukio only loved the part of Rin that wasn't a demon, but that part would never be coming back to him.

He heard voices as he reached out to turn the handle of the headmaster's door. Upon hearing his brother's name, he hesitated, listening to a muffled, angry retort before entering. Mephisto sat behind his large desk, drumming his fingers against its surface impatiently. In front of him sat the Russian Grigori member that had stolen Rin from them. Yukio had never seen him before and took a moment to commit his image to memory. His dark skin and white hair gave him a unique appearance. The doctor gave him a friendly smile and Yukio had to resist the urge to rip it off. Why would he show his face after he had already taken everything from him? To mock him?

"Hello, Yukio. You look well." He ignored Dr. Rascalov and sat in one of the larger chairs, as far away from their guest as possible.

His eyes were cemented to the headmaster. "You wanted to see me, Sir Pheles?"

There was something wrong with Mephisto, something terrifying and unfamiliar. It was anger, Yukio realized, but not the type of anger he'd ever seen in the demon's face. "Demetri came all this way to ask you something, Yukio."

Curiosity ripped his eyes away from the headmaster to the doctor. He still had that awful smile. "Mephisto tells me you miss your brother dearly. Would you like to see him again?"

The question caught him off guard and he jumped to his feet in excitement, spilling the books and documents from his lap. "Are you releasing him?" He forgot himself and spoke louder than he meant.

"I'm sorry Yukio, but that's not possible." He shook his head slowly and regarded him with a contrite smile. "However, I am offering temporary positions for a determined amount of time for exwires. Since your brother came to us under special circumstances, I figured you would like to see him again." Yukio could feel his heart shuddering against his chest in feverous anticipation. He would get to see Rin again, his smiling face, his obnoxious voice, that precious mop of navy hair. "Most demons don't have families we can trace, but Rin is different. I would like to give you the opportunity to take the role of one of our exorcists for...about two months. Would you be interested?"

"_Yes_, of course!" He didn't think or hesitate.

"Excellent!" The doctor stood, showing that his business here was done. "Ah, I would also appreciate it if you could deliver this to Suguro Ryuji. I would like to offer him a position as well." He produced an envelope from inside his jacket. "Inside is a form he will need to fill out as well as a brochure containing information about the internship. He is scheduled to arrive a week before you if he wishes to join us."

Yukio accepted it tentatively, wondering how Dr. Rascalov knew Suguro. Mephisto continued to remain quiet, eyes locked on the doctor as he made his way around the leather chairs and to the door. "Doctor." He stopped. "…Thank you."

Dr. Rascalov's smile was no longer irritating. "I apologize for all the trouble I've caused you and your friends, Yukio. I hope this can make up for some of it."

They both knew that it wouldn't, but seeing his brother would give Yukio some peace of mind, motivation, a reason to continue his life as an exorcist. Once the doctor left, he quietly began to gather his things, day dreaming of the moment he would finally be reunited with his precious brother. "Yukio," he looked up at the headmaster, feeling a twinge of anger churn in his chest. "Don't go. It isn't wise to believe what Demetri says." He stared down at the young exorcist with a deep frown, one that wrinkled his forehead.

Yukio clenched his fists and tried to control his temper. "Don't talk to me! It's your fault Rin is trapped there! If you had fought harder to keep him in Japan and out of the Vatican's hands, this wouldn't be happening right now! This is _your_ fault, Mephisto!" The headmaster didn't move or blink, taking Yukio's abuse without comment. "Tell me," he asked, voice cracking. "Why did you give up so easily? _Why_ didn't you try to help him?"

Mephisto swiveled in his chair, turning away from the exorcist and gazing out the large window behind his desk. "The Grigori are impossible to argue with."

That was it? **That** was his reason for not speaking up when they had sentenced Rin to the city? Because he didn't want to _argue_ with them? Yukio's anger flared. He wanted to punch the headmaster, hurt him, make him feel the pain he had after losing his brother. But he knew better and pushed the urge aside. He breathed slowly and finished gathering his papers in silence. He had one more question before he left, hand on the door.

"Sir Pheles, do you have any history with Dr. Rascalov?" He didn't want to turn to face the headmaster, worried he might do something he'll later regret.

"No." His answer was so quick and curt that Yukio's head snapped up to him. He was still staring out his window, back to him. Knowing he was lying, the teacher gritted his teeth and slammed the door on his way out.

Mephisto understood exactly how the young exorcist felt; he hadn't seen his brother since the trial, either.


	5. lingering

**Suguro, Ryuji  
****lingering  
****Prelude to The Elysian #4  
**He stretched and rubbed the back of his tense neck, exhausted and famished. With a heavy sigh, he slowly gathered his things, eyes resting on the manga he had let Rin borrow once. He stared at it, wondering if the exorcists that cared for him knew how much he loved these stupid, little books. _You have to stop thinking like this_, he told himself, _it's going to destroy you_. He glanced at the empty desk at the front of the room, frowned, and, as a distraction, forced his thoughts to be about dinner. Something warm and spicy…perhaps curry?

Rin had made curry that night during the training camp. He could scarcely remember the taste.

Damn it…

"Oh, Suguro." He stopped as Okumura called his name. "Do you have a moment? There's something I want to ask you."

Bon waved at his friends and returned to the pedestal at the front of the class. "What is it, teach?" Okumura handed him a thick envelope and gave him a moment to skim over its contents. His stomach sank as he read a handwritten note strategically placed atop the pile.

_Suguro Ryuji,_

_I hope my messenger did well; it's not often I need to rely on humans to deliver my notes._

_I am requesting your presence at the Elysian for an internship. You may decline if you wish, but I implore you to come. If you do a well enough job, as I expect, I will give you your exorcist license at the end of the two months. And, I will personally write a letter of recommendation to any college you desire to attend anywhere in the world. You'll gain knowledge beyond what is in your outdated textbooks and witness things no exorcist has ever seen before. Doesn't that sound exciting? I'll send a plane to pick you up at the end of the week. Your internship will last two months, so make sure you speak with your teachers about any missed assignments. Pack light._

_Sincerely,_

_Dr. Damascus Rascalov_

_Rin is waiting for you, Suguro_.

"…What is this?" he asked, his expression suddenly anxious and frightened. He lowered the letter and had half a mind to tear it into pieces.

"Isn't it great?" Okumura's smile was genuine for the first time in months. "I'll be joining you eventually, but I have some things to take care of before I go." He stacked papers together and moved with such nonchalance, such perverse excitement, that it made Bon uncomfortable. "Oh, and the city is cut off from society, so you won't need to take your phone or laptop."

"Uh, teach?" His stomach churned uneasily, intensifying the pounding in his head. "I'm not sure I…" Bon didn't know how to word his thoughts without them sounding selfish and let his voice trail off.

"You don't want to see Rin? He's your friend…right?" The young exorcist regarded him with a bemused frown and furrowed brow.

"N-No, that's not what I meant. I'm just… I'm not really comfortable with the concept of the city," he admitted. "There's something wrong about a group of exorcists controlling a congested society of demons."

Okumura waved a hand, unconcerned by his words. "Rin would love to see you again, Suguro. You'll get paid too."

_I don't care about money, I don't want to see the reality he's forced to live_. But Bon held his tongue and nodded once before taking his leave.

He was briefly aware of his friends' presences as he read and reread the small, handwritten note, wondering why the doctor specifically requested his presence. When he lowered the paper, Shima was the first to speak up. "So...what did he want?"

"I-Is it about Rin?" Moriyama clutched her hands to her chest. Ever since he vanished, she'd been eager for news about him, but Okumura continuously brushed her off and told her he was in a safe place. The frustration must be maddening for her.

"The doc wants me to work at the facility where they keep Rin for two months." His voice was cold and firm, a futile attempt to mask his uncertainty.

The girl gasped and covered her mouth to hold back and excited shout. "You get to see Rin?"

"I guess," he mumbled. He wasn't ready to face Rin. Surely the half-demon hated the cram school students for deserting him and was glad he would never have to see any of them ever again. The thought filled Bon with shame and sorrow. "I'm not sure if I want to go."

"Are you _kidding_?" Shima placed a hand on his shoulder, grinning. "Is that even a question, Bon? After all the whining you did about wanting to get Rin out of prison?"

"What about the exorcist exam?" Izumo narrowed her eyes accusingly at him, like he was avoiding it.

"The doctor is giving me a license after I complete the internship," he responded harshly.

"So, uh," Moriyama placed a finger on her chin as she thought. "The facility is your exorcist exam?" Bon shrugged.

"Can he do that?" Izumo scoffed and rolled her eyes. But then her expression softened. "I think you should go. At least apologize to him for all of us."

He glared at her. Bon didn't want that kind of pressure on him, having to face Rin alone and being shut off from the rest of the world for eight weeks was more than enough. "Don't ask me to do that. I wouldn't know what to say."

"How about we each write him a letter?" Koneko had recently gotten a penpal in the States and was obsessed with it for some reason. Everyone agreed that it was an excellent idea.

"That's great! He can keep them too, so he doesn't forget us." Moriyama clenched her small fists in determination. "Okay! I'll make my letter the best that I can!"

Shima leaned on his friend, giving him a mocking, playful grin. "Guess you have to go now."

Bon scowled and glared at the page in his hand. He would rather stay here and take the exorcist exam, but now his friends were counting on him to deliver letters of apology to someone who probably blamed them for everything that happened.

If he didn't accept the internship, he felt he would betray everyone.

* * *

**Author's Note:** And that's the end of the prologue. Next chap we're finally into the city and the actual story! Thanks so much to everyone for reading! I hope you like it so far x


	6. a world to believe in

**#333- Rin  
****a world to believe in  
****A City of Pigs #1  
**He woke to a strange taste in his mouth, earthy and sweet. It was thick in his throat and made his tongue feel dry. His vision swirled as he eased his eyes open, a haze of monochrome colors fractured by rays of yellow light. With a weary groan, he sat up, holding his throbbing head until it eventually subsided and his senses returned to him.

Rin was on a firm, steel gurney and hooked up to an incessant machine that quietly beeped in unison with his heart. He tugged on the cord of the IV that sat nestled in the bend of his arm, but winced when he felt a sharp pain travel to his shoulder and decided to leave it, examining his surroundings instead. The industrial gray walls of his small room and the neatly arranged white marble counters across from his bed all seemed vaguely familiar. He wondered where he had seen them before – perhaps a movie or a manga. As he shifted his weight, his hand came into contact with something long and furry. His tail stiffened and coiled around his fingers when he grabbed it. The dark appendage brought terrible memories with it, but those thoughts vanished from his mind when he heard footsteps outside his room.

The door made a metallic hiss as it opened automatically, making him jump. A nurse dressed in a long, black coat entered, a strange blue and red emblem the only color on her uniform. The sheet they had placed over him slipped from his shoulders and a chill crawled across his skin, turning it to gooseflesh. Underneath, he wore nothing but a papery-thin gown, tied in the back in three different places: one at his neck, his midback, and at the base of his tail. He scrambled to cover himself, but noticed she didn't even look up from her tablet.

She ripped off a scrap of paper that was attached to the steel edge of the gurney's frame and entered the information into her tablet. After a while, she lowered it and turned her attention to him. "What do you remember?" She regarded him with a hard, uncaring face, exhausted and bordering annoyance. His eyes fell to his unkempt tail.

Rin knew he was a demon, a beast of animosity who killed and tortured, who grew fat on the suffering of man. He knew he had hurt his friends and family, though he could not remember how. All he recalled was drowning in a sea of blue fire, choking and writhing in its heat. He remembered their faces with ease, furrowed brows and tears, angry and fearful and sullen.

The rest of his past came to him in bits and pieces, an incoherent mosaic of fractal memories. One stood out above the others: the face of a small boy with tousled, brown hair and glasses._ Brother_, his mind told him, _this is my brother_. What was his name? He didn't know. But, somehow, the memory of his smiling face, though his cheeks were drenched with tears, was enough to calm and comfort him, help him forget his shattered mind.

"I remember a little," he mused aloud, but she didn't acknowledge his response.

"Your name is Rin," her voice seemed to harden as she unhooked him from the beeping machine and led him to the door. "You are number three-thirty-three and you have been brought here as ordered by the Grigori."

"Where is here?" he asked, following the nurse down the brightly lit hallway. He craned his neck to see down corridors that they passed, but could find no windows or any trace of sunlight.

"You are at the Elysian," she explained. "This facility protects demons and offers them a place to live unhindered by human society. In return, we study you to find better methods of bringing your kind down without injury to either demon or exorcist."

Her words made him feel a rush of happiness. Finally, he was where he belonged, in a place where he couldn't ruin any more lives, where he would be safe from the flames that threatened to consume him. And he wouldn't have to worry about his younger brother anymore. Rin had hurt him the most and, somehow, he knew that he hated him for it. But here, under the protection of exorcists, neither of them would suffer. They would take care of him, meet his every need, and he was eager to help them in any way possible.

He followed her around a corner and stopped before an indistinguishable, metal door. The nurse swiped a card through a scanner and turned to him. It opened with another quick hiss. "Change your clothes. When you are done, we will take you to your new home."

"Okay." He was relieved to finally get out of the embarrassing garb he wore and hurried inside. The door slammed down behind him with a creak.

The changing room was incredibly small, barely wider than the door itself. There was a full length mirror mounted on one side of the short wall and a bench with a pile of neatly folded clothes. Atop it sat a pair of dog tags on a long, ball chain. He picked them up and ran his thumb gently across the engravings embedded into the small, misshapen, iron pieces. One tag had an intimidating silhouette of a demonic head, shaped with sharp curves and ragged teeth. The other had three lines of words and numbers:

_Rin_

_#333_

_House #4C_

Rin fidgeted with them for a moment before placing the tags back on the bench and changing out of his patient gown. He was given boxers, dark-colored jeans, a white undershirt, a gray tee, and a black hooded sweater to cover his arms. The tags made a dull, pleasing sound as he threw the chain over his neck. Once dressed, he examined himself in the mirror and attempted to fix his shaggy, navy hair. No matter what he tried to do, the locks wouldn't stay in place. He gave up and stared at his foreign facial features – his eyes, his nose, his lips. The reflection was so unfamiliar to him, but he wasn't concerned; he would be too busy assisting the exorcists to bother with his appearance and he was certain none of them would care.

When they allowed him to exit the room, he was surprised to find that the nurse was gone, replaced by a stout man with long, gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail. "Hello," Rin smiled and gave him a polite greeting.

The man grinned and patted his shoulder hard, sending him stumbling forward. "Let's go, lad! I'll be escorting ya to yer home." He grabbed Rin, steadied him, and then guided him, a little roughly, down the hall and into another room.

Rin thought it looked like a lobby, with an organized counter, chairs for waiting patients, pleasant music playing overhead, and a warm breeze coming from a ceiling vent. But their visit was brief and he was pulled into a large, glass elevator before he could admire the atmosphere. Rin fussed with the zipper of his hoodie as they descended. The ride was long and slow and he was just about to ask questions about his new home when the wall of the elevator shaft opened up to reveal the underground demon city.

The first thing that caught his eye was a large structure next to the elevator shaft made entirely of glass with a web of steel supports beneath it. From inside the observation room, he could see a tall man with white hair watching him intently.

Feeling uncomfortable, Rin turned his gaze to the beautiful, enthralling city. Short houses in neatly arranged rings jutted out from the cave's floor, intricately carved from stone with smooth corners and inviting doorways. Florescent light fixtures were embedded into the ceiling and posts with torches trapped in iron fixtures were placed at regular intervals among the homes. Together, the lights bathed the cave in a dull, welcoming yellow glow. An ornate, three tier fountain sat in what appeared to be a center plaza, clear water gushing from each delicate, marble platform. There was a straight gap in the rings, beginning at the elevator shaft, opening up to the plaza, and ending at the wall of the cave. In the back, behind the final ring of homes, two identical buildings were carefully placed on opposite ends of the city. Judging by the ceramic tiles that lined their entrances, he assumed they were either public restrooms or bathhouses.

The elevator jerked as it came to a slow stop. He was urged forward and led to the entrance of the city. Three other exorcists glanced at him as he passed, but didn't seem interested in his presence. One standing before the gate, with black hair and unruly bangs, snatched the dangling dog tags Rin wore, reading them quickly. He took a hand-held scanner attached to the only computer and pressed it against the tag that held his name. It beeped twice and then the gate clicked open.

"Be careful," the dark-haired exorcist warned his co-worker in a voice that was less than pleasant. "The king is having a bad morning."

The fat man that held Rin gave a shrug and a loud chuckle. "Aye? When isn't he?" He pushed the gate out of his way and led Rin inside. "Now, where's yer house?" The exorcist released him and picked up the swaying tag, gentler than the other man, and dropped it when he was finished. "Ah, yer gonna have fun living _there_, lad."

Rin tilted his head, rubbing his throbbing arm. "Where?"

He grinned, wide and toothy. "With the king." He turned on his heel and began walking down the large gap in the ring of houses. Rin could look down either way and see well-designed entrances to a few of them, each tailored to the resident's individual preferences. Some had wooden planks while others had curtains of thick animal hides decorated with colorful beads or bleached bones. Demons poked their heads out of their doorways, interested to see who had arrived to their city. Some of them greeted the exorcist, calling him by name. He waved back to them, giving them each a friendly smile and a quick greeting. "Try not to make him angry." It took Rin a moment to realize he was speaking about the king. "He likes to make our jobs harder when he's upset."

They were silent until they reached the fountain that marked the center of the city. It was bigger than Rin originally expected, though it was difficult to tell how large things were while inside elevator. He stopped to place his hand under the running water, enjoying the cool feeling against his fingertips. The top of the fountain held a beautiful, intricately designed cross, bent at a strange angle and stained with something that had long faded. Large, deep wooden spoons rested on the edge of the fountain's base for demons to drink from. The exorcist patiently waited as Rin took a few refreshing sips, ridding his throat of the earthy aftertaste that had woken him.

"We share the same water," he commented. "So ya know it's safe to drink." Rin said nothing as they continued following the main path. "Yer house is letter c in row four." He tapped the tag that swung against Rin's chest. "That's how ya read those." Bemused about what he meant, he grabbed the engraved iron and reread it.

"Oh, I get it!"

"Smart lad," he grinned and messed the demon's hair playfully. Rin frowned and attempted to fix his fringe. "Food can be brought to ya whenever ya want, just be sure ya ask for what ya want specifically. Wouldn't want ole Darius to feed ya rotten scraps. Ah, but he works nights and most demons don't get hungry when it comes time to change shifts. Just make sure ya eat before then."

"Right... Eat before bed," he echoed plainly, far too distracted by his surroundings to pay much attention.

At the fourth ring, they turned and began to walk along the houses. Rin squinted at the faded letters above each door, struggling to make out what they said. When he realized he couldn't read most of them, he counted the doors. Seven doors in, the exorcist stopped and turned to face him. Rin's new home had a rather welcoming appearance. It was the tallest one in the entire city, almost twice the height of those surrounding it, making it easy for him to locate. It had two holes carved into the stone on either side of the door to serve as windows and a relaxing, herbal smell came from inside.

"Is _this_ mine?" He was excited the exorcists had decided to place him in the biggest one and wondered what was emitting such a pleasant scent.

"Well, kinda." He knocked on the wooden door. Rin noticed it was newer than the others and well-constructed, decorated with iron studs. "Your Grace, yer roommate is here."

From the roof came a demon in a striped dress shirt. "What does the doctor bring me now?" He eyed Rin once, a quick, haughty glance, and turned away with a frustrated huff. "_Again_? Does he enjoy torturing me?"

"And everyone else." The exorcist nudged Rin forward and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I can't argue for ya, lad. The doc gets what the doc wants."

"No. In this city,** I** get what **I** want and I do not want this..._thing_ to share a hovel with me anymore. Send him away." The green haired demon waved his hand, but Rin did not move.

What a selfish, arrogant king. He had never even met him before and yet he was already passing judgment on him! No wonder all the demons were underground; if they were as rude as the king, they deserved it. Rin swallowed his pride and decided it would be best to try and make friends with him. The exorcists put effort toward making friends with the demons, so he would do the same.

Rin forced his biggest smile and held out his hand. "Hi! I'm Rin! Thanks for letting me join your city!"

The demon's eyes tightened with an emotion that Rin couldn't read, and then swatted his hand away. "If it was my decision, all of you would be dead!" He shot a glare at the exorcist as he spoke and Rin took offense to it.

"Hey, don't talk to them like that!" He stepped in front of the fat exorcist. "They're only trying to help us!"

"_Help us_!?" He scoffed, but the expression on his face seemed to soften. "Rin, why do you continue to play this game?" He shook his head and returned to his perch atop the building. "Why am I even asking you?"

Exasperated, Rin faced the exorcist. "What's his problem?"

"Don't let it bother ya, lad." He shrugged yet again, smile never leaving his face. "He's a king; he has to be cautious of dangerous demons that may want the crown for themselves, ya know."

"Oh," Rin's anger faltered as he understood. He would be paranoid too if a new demon entered his city. But Rin didn't want the crown, he wanted to live a happy life, play with his new friends, and help the exorcists.

"I'll leave ya to get settled in." He patted Rin on his shoulder again, knocking him off balance, and started back to the main path.

"Is he gone?" The king jumped down, tags banging together as he landed. It was then that Rin noticed one of them was shiny and gold, reflecting the light from the florescent fixtures gracefully. Unable to swallow his curiosity, he grabbed it and inspected the engraving, brushing his fingers against it. Unlike his misshapen tags, this one was well crafted, with polished edges and a beautifully engraved crown silhouette on both sides. He let Rin play with it, his brow scrunched with annoyance.

"Cool tag!" Memorized, Rin adverted his gaze to the iron tag much like his own. "Ah-My-Mon... Is that your name?" He smiled and released the tags, letting them fall gently against the demon's striped tie.

"Don't tell me the doctor convinced you to drink that potion _again_. Are you _really_ that stupid Rin?" His words came fast, voice filled with anger. "What do you remember?"

Rin was bothered by his attitude and snapped back, "What's there to remember?"

Amaimon eyed him dangerously, scrutinizing his face with an irritated scowl. After a long, awkward moment of silence, his fury seemed to vanish and he shoved the door of their home open with his foot. Rin followed, delighted by the source of the aromatic, flowery scent. Dried lavender hung down from thick string woven into the high ceiling of their home. It was pleasant and faint, just enough to give the place a cozy feel. The king flopped down on a pile of hay that was shoved up against one wall in the far corner of the room.

"You've been here for half a year," he said finally, picking at loose hay that had scattered from his movements. "Do you remember any of it?"

That's nonsense; Rin has only been here for a few days at most.

"Nope." He sat on the stone slab carved into the wall, back to the king. It had a thick, comfy quilt and one fluffy pillow to rest his head. He patted it and coughed as a layer of dust was disturbed from the surface of the fabric. "I would have remembered if I was here for that long," he spat.

"You're a fool, Rin."

"And you're a... A... _Shaddup_!"

It didn't matter what happened in the past, he decided. All that mattered was that he could make a difference now and he would start by helping the exorcists. He hoped, one day, they would let him join their ranks, though he wasn't too excited about having to wear those uncomfortable-looking, long uniforms.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hmm...I feel like I might have made Rin too childish in this chapter. He is brainwashed (obviously) but I think I might have overdone his immaturity. Anyway those rules from the intro chap will probably make a little more sense now (as will the summary) Also, thank you so much for 800 views. I'm not sure how I got that many and I don't think Elysian really deserves it, but nonetheless I was so excited to see that number! Thank you to everyone I can't explain how happy (and nervous) I am to see so many people reading!


	7. from the top

**#001- Amaimon  
****from the top  
****A City of Pigs #2  
**He was forced to start over again. How many times has it been now? He'd lost count.

Rin clumsily followed him back to the perch on his roof, spewing something about how happy he was to be in such a wretched place, to feel like he belonged somewhere. Fine, let him be ignorant. Let him believe the broken reality Demetri thrust upon him, let him hate the demon within him, let it fester, let it consume him. If it killed him, it would be the doctor's fault. Amaimon was only doing as he was told; he made the city's rules unforgiving, cruel, hard, but, of course, Demetri had to ruin all his work with that stupid rose potion. Why piece him back together if they were only going to break him in a different way? He didn't understand any of it.

He wanted to give up, to stop playing this stupid game Demetri shared with Aniue. Why bother? Why attempt to restore him to the annoying little brother he was? So Rin could convince more demons to throw trash at him, convince them that exorcists were some type of ethereal creature created to love and protect them? And then, when things got out of hand, Demetri would force the rose potion down his throat, and the vicious cycle would begin again. But if he stopped, gave up and asked to go home, he would become a sheep, just like them, a fate worse than death.

No, he had to keep playing their game, no matter how much he despised it. And he would start this round with breakfast. Yes, he would watch the boy go hungry while he filled himself with as much omelet and rice as he desired.

"Asterius!" he called, silencing Rin mid-sentence.

Asterius was his brother Iblis' servant, but Amaimon was better than him, better than **all** of them, and so the minotaur served only him, as it should be. The demon couldn't remember his original master, but he knew he had lived a life of servitude. Old habits die hard, apparently. He was big and angry, standing at seven and a half feet. From the waist down he was a bull, legs covered with coarse, curly, black hair. Two white horns jutted from near his temples and followed the delicate curve of his skull, ending in sharp, stained points. His hair was only moderately short, so the blood and gore from his victims would be easy to wash from its locks.

Amaimon liked his appearance – He was intimidating and kept the residents of his city in their places. Asterius was the only one who seemed to accept him as king and punished those who did not like it. The others hated him, cursed him and echoed Rin's ridiculous love for the exorcists. _You shouldn't be king_, they would shout, _only an exorcist can rule_. But, with the minotaur around, they pressed their lips together and turned their heads away, the cowards.

A moment after being summoned, Asterius approached him, dropped on one hairy knee, and placed a fist over his heart, a typical greeting from servant to king. "How may I be of service, Your Grace?"

"Whoa, cool!" Rin eagerly hopped down to examine the minotaur, as if he had never seen the beast before. "Is this your friend, Amai?"

The nickname made him scrunch up his face. Rin started calling him Amai nine months ago, after he lost his memories for the second time. Because of how it aggravated him, the exorcists picked it up, laughing at him, mocking him, calling him '_King Amai_'. The name calling stopped when Asterius lost his patience. Anyone who dared to address him as anything other than king had their internal organs ripped from their abdominal cavities; another reason why he liked the demon.

"He is my servant." He didn't feel the need to explain things to Rin again. It was just a waste of breath. "Asterius." The minotaur looked away from Rin. "Fetch me breakfast." Amaimon removed a dull iron tag from one of the many rings in his pocket and tossed it to him. "A serving for yourself, as well."

"At once, Your Grace." The demon was gone in an instant, walking with a quick pace and long strides. Amaimon returned to his perch atop his roof.

"He's cool!" Rin watched him leave.

"Cool? He's a _servant_," Amaimon spat. Rin was too stupid to understand the difference, so he let him marvel over the minotaur's appearance.

"So, uh, what's for breakfast?" He asked, pulling himself up beside him.

The king scoffed. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure."

"Too bad," he sneered. "You don't get to eat."

Rin frowned in consternation. Oh please, how pathetic. He already knew the rules of the city and this '_surprised_' act he pulled was getting tiring. "Why not?"

"You don't have anything to trade," Amaimon spoke bluntly, annoyed. "In my city, you must trade tags for food."

He looked down at the two pieces of iron that hung from his neck with a furrowed brow. "How do I get tags?"

"You have to participate in the tournaments and kill your opponent," he explained curtly, meeting his eyes with a bored glance.

"K-Kill?" He repeated the word quietly, as if he didn't know what it was. "What… I-I don't…"

Amaimon rolled his eyes, disgusted by the weakness in his voice. "I'll show you." He grabbed Rin by the collar of his hooded sweater and pulled him down. The half-breed landed with a thud and a pained grunt, but his king didn't wait for him to get back on his feet. "Follow me."

Hesitantly and while holding the arm he landed on, Rin followed him down the main path of the city. Asterius met them along the way, two plates cradled in his hands. Amaimon took one and sent him away, making sure his little brother caught his haughty glare. He dug his claws into the hot egg and took a greedy bite. It tasted bland and like cardboard, but the exorcists wouldn't let him eat meat unless he flayed and cooked one of the other demons. That wasn't one of his rules, but for some reason everyone seemed to abide by it. The doctor didn't care either way.

Rin fidgeted and eyed his plate hungrily, but it only made him eat slower, louder, lick his fingers after every bite. The way his brother chewed on his bottom lip didn't seem to satisfy him like it usual did. Perhaps he would order another plate and try again.

A large crowd had already surrounded the fountain. As they approached, he could hear Kurai shouting over the incessant murmur, collecting names of participants from inside the circle of impatient demons.

Kurai was Amaimon's kin and by right a servant, regardless of whether he wanted the position. He was a lanky thing and not worthy of a role as important as Asterius. The king wasn't without mercy, however, and gave his kin the choice of servitude or death. He tasked the gray-haired demon with organizing the fights every morning, since he had a strong voice and would do no good in the tournaments themselves.

Amaimon took his place in the front of the crowd, beside the other rich demons, jingling their rings of tags and placing quiet bets as the participants' names were called. He would play too, on occasion, but the doctor only allowed him to bet on his little brother. Rin stood beside him, nervous. In his feeble state of mind, he would be torn to pieces. Amaimon had to reawaken his flames, make him drown in them once again.

"What is this?" his brother asked, disturbed and confused by the sight.

"This is how you earn the right to eat."

"Rin," Kurai pointed at him. "Are you fighting?" Bemused, he shook his head. "Your Grace?"

"I'm eating, you prude."

Kurai moved on, singling out random demons in the hopes of finding one more fighter to make the numbers even. Most of them were too afraid to participate and only did so when they were low on tags. Because of the profound hatred for demons that the doctor had planted in their weak minds, the fights often became brutal and messy, almost painful to watch if they weren't so exhilarating.

Amaimon shoved the remaining contents of his plate into his mouth as Rin watched, uninterested in the shouting that came from the crowd. He handed the empty plate to him and, impatient, grabbed the collar of the nearest demon. The king got what the king wanted, and right now he wanted everyone to shut up and kill each other. She begged him to release her, but he ignored her pleas. These _pigs_ took residence in his city and they would heed to him regardless of who their previous kings were. He shoved the girl into the center of the ring, causing her to trip. She landed hard on the stained floor and her collection of tags scattered around her. A riot broke out as the crowd scrambled to pick up the fallen pieces of iron. It was only interesting to watch for a short while.

"**Enough!**" The cave walls rumbled in response to the anger in his voice. As the group quickly cleared, the female demon he forced into the ring looked up at him with a snarl, her clothes torn and her light blue hair covering her eyes. "Kurai!"

"Who wants to fight the bitch first?" Kurai pulled himself to the top of the fountain, on the king's throne, to act as referee to the tournament. He would begin the fights and end them, so long as Amaimon agreed with his decisions. The demon atop the fountain called a name, pointing to her opponent. He separated himself from the crowd, no more nervous than the girl was. She clamored to her feet and hissed, claws extending and tail whipping wildly behind her. "Begin!" Kurai had a loud voice, one that Amaimon liked to hear. It boomed throughout the cave and echoed off its walls, so even the cowards who didn't want to face the fights would listen and hear the demons' dying screams as the fights took place.

The girl was weak and Amaimon knew she would lose, one of the reasons he decided to shove her into the ring. She had such little control over her element, despite it constantly being within her reach. The demon, kin of water, clawed at her opponent blindly, completely ignoring the gushing fountain at her back. It was almost comical. She was pathetic and Amaimon hoped her skull would open and her blood would taint the water she lived for. A dirty fountain would upset the doctor as well, give him more work, and that would please the king even more.

It didn't last long, as he expected, but it was a gory finish, as he had hoped. Rin watched with wide eyes and a bleached face as the larger demon slammed the girl's head into the base of the fountain over and over again. The crowd howled at her, but she would never hear their cries of distaste. Perhaps that was for the best. His little brother clutched his ears, trying to block out the sounds her skull made as it connected with the marble. And then, suddenly, he rushed into the fight.

"Rin! What the hell are you doing? Get out of there!" Kurai didn't dare step down from the fountain and for good reason.

"_Stop_! Stop, you're killing her!" The brusque demon, so consumed by the taste of blood, struck him hard in his abdomen. He fell back on his side, writhing and coughing wetly.

And he was having such a pleasant morning.

* * *

**Kurai belongs ****to DarkestDemonsInTheSoul**

**Author's Note:** Not a great chapter, but...uh, it's there...I guess. Anyway, I'm dumb and I don't think I made this clear enough, but unlike all the other demons, Amai has his memory intact. It was very subtle, but in the second prologue (#3 in the drop down menu) Demetri says he will not erase Amai's memory if he creates the city. _"You will accept my generous offer, lest you become a victim of the city yourself."_ I hope my characterizations are tolerable so far...I'm always worried about it, Amai especially. Thank you for reading!


	8. not what they seem

**#27E- Suguro, Ryuji  
****not what they seem  
****A City of Pigs #3  
**The doors hissed open abruptly and Bon found himself in a strange, monochrome lobby. He expected the facility to be extravagant, but he didn't expect it to be so...empty. A chill trickled across his skin as he wandered inside and placed his bags down in the center of the room.

"Hello?" Not receiving a response, he approached the abandoned counter, hoping to find a bell or a call button or any sign of life. But the computer was off and it didn't seem like the desk had been used for a while.

Where was everyone? His flight had been late, but the helicopter pilot was still there waiting for him even two hours later. He expected the same here; someone to greet him or at least show him to his room.

Bon glanced down a hall, turned, and came face-to-face with the eerily large glass elevator that sat directly across from the main entrance. He immediately knew where it went and backed away, uneasy. Just as he debated leaving the waiting area to find someone, he heard a door open and a pair of footsteps echo throughout the corridor to his left. Nervous, he hurried back to his luggage and pretended as though he just arrived.

"...Demons heal quickly so he'll have no problem with the stitches." The voice was strong and deep. "I'm sure you'd rather rest at home than up here, right, Ebil?" A doctor and an exorcist stepped into the lobby wheeling a demon strapped to a gurney. It's bottom half was covered by a white sheet, an oddly shaped lump where the calf of its leg was. "Make sure you stay in bed for the next few days."

"Uh, Dr. Rascalov," the exorcist pointed at Bon.

"Oh, hello, Suguro. Was your flight delayed?" Bon was slightly startled by his appearance. The doctor had dark skin and white hair, a contrasting color combination he wasn't fond of.

"Uh," he rubbed the back of his neck and adverted his eyes, suddenly aware that he was staring. "Yeah, sorry."

"No worries. Did you enjoy your trip over?"

"No," he answered with a bite in his tone.

He chuckled and urged the exorcist into the elevator. "You don't have to be so nervous, Suguro."

"I'm not nervous," he snapped, more so to convince himself than the doctor. "This place is just..."

"Vacant?" Dr. Rascalov laughed again. "Not many exorcists these days are keen on leaving their families." Bon frowned. The facility was a hassle to reach, to keep it away from curious civilians, he assumed, and limited connection to the outside world meant this job didn't get a lot of attention from aspiring exorcists. "I'm sure you understand."

He did – Bon didn't want to work here, either – but he kept his mouth shut.

Before the doctor could say more, the exorcist wheeled the empty gurney out of the elevator and back down the hall. The squeaking noise ground against the walls of his head. "What was that about?"

"Hmm?" He narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a smile. "Broken leg." He sighed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "I wish there was something I could do to keep them from killing each other, but there are some instinctual behaviors that can't be removed from them."

"_Removed_? What are you doing to them?" Bon glared.

His friendly expression didn't falter. "I've heard the rumors and it's not what you think. I remove their memories. It's a harmless procedure that puts them to sleep for a few days while the serum works. The worse that could happen is they wake with a slight headache; nothing a little time and fresh water couldn't handle." The exwire's breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but the doctor held up his hand, cutting him off. "Before you accuse me of anything," he started, "Please realize our situation: I am responsible for a city of over three hundred and fifty demons using less than thirty exorcists – You're number twenty-seven, by the way. If I did not wipe their minds, they would retaliate and kill my staff as well as each other. I am not denying that it is cruel, but it _is_ necessary for the safety of both man and demon."

Bon's frown turned sullen and his brow pulled together in frustration. "Rin doesn't remember me."

Dr. Rascalov touched his shoulder gently in an attempt to comfort him. "He may recognize you, but he will not remember you. The amnesia potion creates a sort of 'fog' around their most recent memories; however, they still retain their mannerisms, likes and dislikes, hobbies, basic urges, and everything that made up who they were before. I'm sure you'll be friends again in no time, Suguro."

"Yeah..." Uncomfortable, Bon lightly stepped out of his grasp. As much as he hated to admit it, the doctor was right – It was impossible to control a city of demons without them trying to kill the exorcists that trapped them here. The facility was more organized and professional than he originally anticipated and he realized he had misjudged the doctor. He seemed to care about the well-being of his demons instead of treating them like...well, like how he had treated Rin.

The fact that Rin couldn't remember how his 'friends' had scorned him should have made Bon feel more at ease, but it didn't.

"Ah, where are my manners? You're probably tired from your flight." Bon looked up, suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. "I'll fetch Torean so he can escort you to your room." Dr. Rascalov turned on his heel and disappeared through a door near the elevator.

Alone in the gray lobby, Bon glanced around, seeing the room for the first time and fidgeting with the strap of his bag. He immediately noticed that the walls were completely bare. It lacked advertisements, business posters, information pamphlets, or any other colorful signs usually found in waiting rooms. The empty atmosphere made him feel cold.

Dr. Rascalov returned a moment later, sharing a hearty laugh with a stout, overweight man in an exorcist uniform with the Order's pin secured on his left. He was old, somewhere in his fifties, and was bald until just above his ears. Long, gray hair fell past his shoulders, pulled back into a low ponytail. A coarse beard covered his chin and most of his cheeks. He smiled brightly at Bon, eyes gently curving up, and seemed to waddle as he walked.

"Suguro," the doctor cleared his throat to rid his voice of laughter. "This is Torean. He's a senior class exorcist; a Dragoon and Aria just like you. He'll be your mentor while you stay at the Elysian."

Torean hummed and tugged on his beard in thought. "Lad, ya look like ya could be me grandson. How ole are ya?"

"I'm sixteen, sir," he answered politely.

"Aye?" He held his hand out and Bon flinched at his overly firm grasp. "I'm fifty-eight!" He laughed loudly.

"Ah..." Bon didn't know how to respond and nodded with a small, awkward smile.

"You'll like Torean, Suguro. He's easy to get along with. Well, most of the time." Before Dr. Rascalov could continue, a high-pitched, rapid beeping silenced him. He unclasped a pager from his belt and frowned. "My apologies, gentlemen, but I must see to the king." He sighed, almost glaring at the small screen. "It seems the fountain is dirty. _Again_." He paused as the elevator doors slid open. "Oh, Suguro, come see me tomorrow morning and I'll get you started. Take today off to rest and unpack. Torean, you can show him the cafeteria and his sleeping quarters for now." He descended into the city without waiting for a response.

"King?" The city had a _demon king_!? Bon cocked a brow and turned to Torean for an answer.

He frowned, so deep it caused his forehead to wrinkle. "It's not too late to go back home, lad."

The exorcist's suddenly serious expression made him nervous. "What? Why would I go back?"

"How much did they tell ya?" His face was still and stern and cold, uncharacteristic of the happy, old man that he met earlier.

"You protect and study demons."

"We also contain them."

"_Contain_?" The word took him by surprise.

"C'mon, lad, I'll show ya." He walked over to the door beside the elevator. Bon followed, albeit hesitantly. When he opened it, they were greeted by a brown-haired girl with a high, messy bun and a wrinkled lab coat. She sat in front of a console, various monitors displaying images from surveillance cameras. The room was made entirely of thick plexiglass and suspended at the ceiling of the underground city. Bon was briefly overwhelmed by vertigo when he looked down. "Welcome to the demon city."

Even from this height, Bon could tell the city was far too small for the number of demons crawling around on rooftops and between stone rings. Squinting, he realized that the wide, square rings were designed to be used as _houses_. Everything looked exactly the same and there were no gaps between them, only doors to distinguish rooms. It was almost as if the entire city had been constructed at once. A white fountain sat in the center of the rings, the area around it stained with blood. All of the residents looked dirty in some way, either covered in dried blood or wearing torn clothing. Most of them had matted hair and tangles in the tufts of their tails. From the monitors, he watched one tug at a knot in his hair. On another screen, a female scratched at the fleas that infested her body. And, in another, a pair of starving demons fought over a rotten mango.

Horrified, Bon turned away. _You knew_, he told himself, _you knew it would be like this_. The words resounded in his head, again and again and again, but it did little to sway his guilt. Rin was down there because of him, bored and starved and covered in filth just like the others.

"Ain't a pretty sight, is it?"

He clenched his fists, furious at himself for blindly placing his trust in Dr. Rascalov. "Why is he doing this to them!?"

"Huh? The doc?" The surprise in Torean's voice made Bon look up. "Now, don't ya go puttin' the blame on him, lad. Doc is the good guy here." He narrowed his eyes in disbelief and the exorcist chuckled softly. "Don't ya be lookin' at me like that – It's the Vatican ya should blame." The smile vanished from his face. "We keep tellin' the bastards we're full, but they keep shippin' demons to us, like we're some kinda trash dump. They don't give a damn about them poor things – So long as they can shove the responsibility to someone else. Doc doesn't want them to be executed and tries to give them a place here, but them other two Grigori have their heads so far up their arses and don't wanna give us funds or a proper staff."

Bon's heart sank, filled with a sense of disgust and anger. So the doctor _was_ trying to help them. But no one wanted to help _him_, too afraid of the nasty rumors that surrounded his city to see the truth behind it.

The girl with the brown hair finally spoke. "Don't worry about it too much – They like it here."

Like it? How could they _like it_ here? The city was cramped and dark and most likely smelled of rotten food and blood. The demons were bored and obviously had nothing to do other than fight or pick at their tangled hair and old scabs. No animal should be living in these conditions, demon or not.

But did they _really_ have much of a choice? Was it really better to live trapped in tiny cells in the bowels of Rome? Or was it better to live here, protected and cared for with what little resources Dr. Rascalov received from the Vatican? If he were a demon, which life would he pick?

"Is this really the best option?"

"Some think it is and some don't." Torean shrugged. "If ya want to leave, best turn back now." He opened the door and gently urged him out. "It only gets worse when ya go down there." Bon stiffened under the exorcist's grasp. "No one will think of ya as a coward if ya do." He paused to sigh. "Ain't none of us want to be here."

Bon couldn't turn back now, not after seeing that. He had to see for himself how Rin was doing, make sure he was still alive, still the same friend he had lost so long ago. He _had_ to, if not because of morbid curiosity, because of guilt and pity. "I'm staying," he said firmly.

Torean's smile returned. "Good to hear, lad!" He patted Bon on the shoulder, sending him stumbling forward and into his waiting luggage.

* * *

******Author's Note: **Confused yet? Is the doctor good or bad? Bon can't seem to decide... Anyway, I'm not sure if it was right for me to make Bon nervous. It seems really out of character for him (does he ever get nervous?) But I'd like to think his behavior is justified. I mean, would you be scared if you had to go to a different country all alone to work at some demon place run by a bunch of strangers for two months? (coughexcusescough) Thanks for reading!


	9. caught in jealousy

**#001- Amaimon  
****caught in jealousy  
****A City of Pigs #4  
**Demetri had to enter the city's plaza to answer Amaimon's summons. He waited atop the bent cross on his fountain; his 'throne', he liked to call it.

"Oh, look what you did to the fountain... Honestly, I'm beginning to think you do this on purpose just to spite me."

"My egg was overcooked."

He breathed deeply and removed the frustration from his tone. "My sincerest apologies, Your Grace." He bowed, but Amaimon knew he was mocking him. "I will have another sent down immediately."

"Uh," Rin crept forward, having regained his composure after witnessing the girl's death. It seemed to Amaimon that each time he forgot and watched another demon die for the 'first' time, he bounced back quicker than before. He wondered how his little brother would fare if he knew he was one of the best killers in the entire city and more often than not went to bed with his stomach full. "M-Me too!" He fidgeted with two tags on a keyring. Amaimon, in a peculiar act of mercy, had allowed him to take the dead girls' tags. She was such a disgrace that no one wanted to touch them. "I'm hungry!"

Demetri gave him an impish grin. "Are you? I'm sorry, but you must trade them up front like everyone else." He faced Amaimon again, but his expression never faltered.

Rin took another cautious step forward, clutching the tags in his hand. "Why doesn't _he_ have to pay?"

"Because he is the king, Rin," he said simply. "The king is exempt from all rules."

A demon hissed at him from its place atop a roof. "The king is a coward!"

"The king is worthless!"

"_Craven_!"

"Trying to do an exorcists job!"

Amaimon's temper flared at the sounds of his city hating him. It was not something new; they had despised him ever since he declared himself king. If Demetri had not planted the notion that exorcists were these wonderful, kind creatures, they would be hanging on _his_ every word, as it should be. "You want the crown?" He tore off the tags around his neck and threw them on the cold, stone floor at the doctor's feet. "Who wants the crown, huh? Come and get it!" The city fell silent and some of the demons sunk back into the darkness of their homes. He scoffed at them. And they call _him_ a coward? _Pigs_. He glanced down at Rin, who quietly glared back. "Do you want to be king, newcomer?"

"No," he answered quickly and surely, shaking his head. "I don't want to be king. I want to be Rin."

Demetri knelt beside him, holding out his hand in a friendly gesture. "Well then, what would Rin like for a meal?"

Rin smiled shyly. "Sukiyaki?"

Amaimon watched, disgusted, as the doctor took one of the tags from his little brother and promised him a hot meal. Why did everyone treat _him_ so much better while Amaimon worked so hard without recognition? Even here, with a crown and servants, he was scorned and spat at. Soon enough, Rin would be winning tags left and right, handing them out to downtrodden demons and who would then love him even more for feeding the swines when they should be _earning_ their right to eat.

He hated Rin, but it was for a different reason than when they arrived six months ago. Back then, he resented the half-breed for humiliating him in front of Aniue. But now, he hated his brother for forgetting him, for allowing Demetri to have control over him, for disappearing and then coming back without knowing his name, for being a waste of his time, of his effort. It made Amaimon angry; angry at Rin, angry at Demetri, angry at his city of sheep, even angry at Aniue.

"Demetri."

The doctor looked up after pocketing the tag. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"I propose a new rule."

Demetri's smile darkened. "Oh? And what would that be?"

Amaimon glared at his brother, pants already scrapped and torn from the hard stone he knelt on. He was such a repulsive creature and he swore to himself he would make _this_ time one he wouldn't be able to forget. Rin frowned back at him, none the wiser. "No sharing of tags. Anyone caught giving out tags or receiving them when they have not been properly earned will be executed on the spot."

The doctor knew exactly what the demon had an mind, but couldn't refuse him. Not that he wanted to. Everything Amaimon added to the city just seemed to amuse him more. "It will be done, my king."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Did you know I completely forgot about the exorcist exam? (And if you did, why didn't you say anything! XD) Thanks to taiShafie for bringing this to my attention! I'll be spending the next couple days editing previous chapters so Rin's time at the city is cut down from a year to six months. It won't change the plot much so you guys won't have to go back and reread anything (unless you really want to) As always, thank you so much for reading!


	10. little burdens

**#27E- Suguro, Ryuji  
****little burdens  
****A City of Pigs #5  
**"And this is yer room." Torean placed his ID card against the scanner. It beeped and the door slid open with a hiss. "Try not to be _too_ excited about it." He chuckled and earned a glare from Bon.

The room was incredibly small with barely enough space for one person to move around comfortably. Its walls were monochrome, just like the rest of the facility, but it didn't surprise him anymore. Bon had a twin-sized bed with white sheets and matching blankets and pillows, a desk with a small, gray lamp, an office chair, and a metallic closet. Everything seemed to be built into the wall. He frowned as he glanced around again; he was hoping for a private bathroom to take his showers in peace, but it was a minor setback.

"I gotta go check on the lads downstairs, so I'll let ya unpack for a bit." He fumbled with the various pockets of his uniform before he pulled out a white card from inside his jacket. "Here." It had _TEMP_ stamped on it in ugly, red letters. "Wouldn't want ya to get locked outta yer room now, would we?" He messed Bon's hair and then left.

With a frustrated snarl, he sat on the edge of his bed and attempted to tuck loose strands of hair back into his slight mohawk. After a few minutes of fidgeting with his fringe, he gave up and began to rummage through his bag. He stopped when his hand brushed against the stack of letters the exwires had written to Rin. They were tucked away in individual envelopes, but not sealed in case Rin, in his excitement, tore through the notes within. He didn't write one himself, assuming that it would be better for him to apologize in person as he was the one that hurt his friend the most.

But Rin wouldn't remember him, remember _any_ of them.

Bon sighed and, still holding the letters, buried his face in his hands. This city, this terrible place made him feel so guilty, so ashamed, so disgusting; he helped condemn Rin here and he would _never_ know it. He didn't know what to do – Should he be happy he won't remember the way he was treated? Or angry? Was he selfish for so desperately wanting Rin's forgiveness? He shook his head and pushed the thoughts out of his mind. Bon could decide whether he wanted to scream or cry later, in the privacy of his bed at night. But not now; he didn't want the exorcists to see him as weak. He placed the stack of envelopes on his desk and continued unpacking.

Just as he finished organizing his closet, a knock came to his door. The metal reverberated strangely and startled him. He relaxed when it opened and Dr. Rascalov smiled at him.

"I hope the room isn't too small," he said, sounding somewhat remorseful. "We didn't have much to work with so I had to cut space somewhere."

"It's fine," Bon brushed off his apology and shoved his bag into the bottom of the closet.

He nodded, but, as he turned toward the door to leave, his eyes caught the bundle of letters. Bon glanced up and immediately cursed himself for placing them in such plain sight. The doctor stared at them with an expression he couldn't read, and then picked them up. Each envelope had Rin's name on it along with the person who wrote it. He frowned deeply and, for a moment, Bon was worried he would confiscate them. "Suguro-"

"My friends wrote them," he scrambled for words before the doctor could become angry, as if it justified their existence.

Dr. Rascalov laughed once, his face filled with contrite compassion again. "Sit, Suguro." He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to him. Bon complied. The doctor flipped through each envelope, pausing to admire the handwriting. "I know it was sudden," he started, holding the exwire's gaze gently. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have given his friends the proper opportunity to say goodbye, but the Vatican refused." He hesitated, sighing heavily. "They are cruel and impatient, as most humans are. But, Suguro, there's something I need you to understand," he placed a hand on his shoulder. "He's not ready for this yet."

"What do you mean?" Bon couldn't hold back his excitement. Did that mean it was possible for Rin to regain his memories? "Will he remember if he reads these?"

The doctor held up his hands to calm him. "I'm not certain, but we can't take that risk. He's in a very feeble state of mind and if he _does_ remember and harbor _any_ type of hate toward you or the authors of these letters, he'll lash out. Not just at you, but at my staff and the other demons. I don't want anyone to get hurt, so, _please_, for your safety and his, refrain from telling him anything that might spark his memory, including these." He handed the bundle back to Bon. "Until I know how Rin will react, please keep these to yourself."

"_He's not like that_," he muttered under his breath and tightened his grip on the letters.

"Suguro?"

Bon didn't understand what the doctor meant and that made him uneasy. Rin was his _friend_, demon or not. He would _never_ attack him; he proved this in the forest when he unsheathed the Kurikara and lost control just to protect them. Even if everyone in the facility told him Rin would turn and attack, Bon had faith that he wouldn't. He was _not_ that type of person, not then and not now.

But what difference would the letters _really_ make? Surely his appearance alone would be enough to spark Rin's memory. After all, it had only been a few months; even with his memories gone, some part of his brain would recognize the faces of his friends. ...Right?

He anxiously chewed on his lower lip and glanced up at Dr. Rascalov. Was he lying? "It's nothing." He decided it would be best to keep his suspicions to himself.

The doctor regarded him with something akin to disdain, almost as if he could read Bon's thoughts. It seemed like he was going to say more, but his pager went off. "Ah, I'm sorry, Suguro." His friendly smile returned instantly. "The city always needs me." The door opened as he approached. "Torean should be here momentarily with a proper security card. Your shift begins at eight tomorrow morning. I'll meet you in the cafeteria then."

"Thanks, Dr. Rascalov."

Alone in his room once more, Bon turned back to the envelopes in his hand. Frustrated at the doctor, he pushed himself off the bed and shoved them into the first drawer of his desk. Fuck him. He would watch for the right moment and then pass them on to Rin, regardless of what anyone told him. His friends were counting on him and he never broke his promises.

The thought of his friends back home suddenly reminded him that, in his haste to reach the helicopter before it stranded him, he had forgotten to contact Koneko and let him know he landed safely in Italy. He dug his phone out and opened it, but couldn't get a signal strong enough to send a message or make a call.

Bon grabbed his temp card and wandered out into the hall, hoping another part of the facility would give him better reception. As he made his way to the lobby, eyes cemented to his phone's screen, he bumped lightly into another exorcist. He apologized profusely, but was silenced when he looked up. The man wore a hard, unfriendly expression and it made him sink back slightly. Dark hair fell over his brow and only seemed to make his face appear angrier. He snatched the phone out of Bon's hand and glared at it. "Didn't the doctor tell you to leave your toys at home?" He dropped it on the floor and crushed it under his foot. Bon, aghast, couldn't form a response.

"Didn't _yer_ mother ever teach ya any manners?" Torean hobbled down the hall and approached the other exorcist without fear, hands on his hips. "Maybe if ya weren't such a _cock_, ya would know what it's like to have kids, Nathan." The exorcist growled at him and continued down the corridor without so much as a glance at Bon. Torean picked up his phone and tsked. "Sorry about that, lad. He's a right ass, he is." He held it out along with a neatly folded uniform. Bon took them tentatively.

"Uh... I-It's okay. It was an old model, anyway." The phone still worked, much to his surprise, but the screen was so cracked that he couldn't tell if there were any words on it.

Torean placed an arm around his shoulders and led him back down the hall the way he came. "Don't even bother with that, lad. Ya won't be able to get a signal. Doc has these little jammers everywhere that block all that wireless mumbo-jumbo. Keeps stuff from gettin' in and from gettin' out." He stroked his beard as he hummed deviously. "Maybe if we had us some ravens..." Bon cocked a brow and Torean laughed loudly. "Ah, only in my fantasy novels, yeah?" They stopped at his room so Bon could drop off his phone and try on his uniform. "Ready to get yer gun?"

"Gun?" He looked up from the buttons of his jacket.

"Aye. Every Dragoon needs a gun."

He couldn't argue with that. "I'm ready."

Bon tried not to let anything bother him; not his phone or the letters or Rin or the doctor. But it felt like the harder he tried to block everything out, the harder it was to forget, to concentrate. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to be distracted by the facility's gun collection.

He was startled when Torean open the door to a room no bigger than his own. There was a long row of four glass cabinets against the wall and another, larger one tucked away in the corner for ammo. Each cabinet held a different gun: pistols, shotguns, hunting rifles, and, oddly, sniper rifles. All together, the tiny collection had less than ten weapons and two boxes of holy water grenades.

"Here," he took the largest gun off its perch, a black sniper rifle with a scope, and loaded it. "Ya can't use Aria down there, so ya need to be well-armed." He tapped its shoulder stock. "A good swing of Gertrude's butt here can knock out a man with a single hit. Use that to yer advantage when ya need to calm rowdy demons. It probably won't hurt them," he paused to shrug, "Probably."

Bon stumbled to catch it as Torean shoved the gun into his arms. He gaped at it, confused. "Um, shouldn't I start out with something smaller?"

The exorcist tilted his head and placed a hand on his bearded chin, scrutinizing him. "Hmm, ya know how to take the safety off?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't see why ya can't use Gertrude! All ya do is point and pull the trigger. Easy!" His smile faded. "Ah, just be careful where ya aim." He winked playfully, but Bon didn't find his words humorous.

"This isn't funny! I don't even have my license yet and you're trusting me with a _sniper rifle_?"

Torean frowned deeply, all amusement gone from his eyes. "Pay attention, lad. I'm only gonna show ya this once." He picked up a pistol. "This here shoots a silver nine millimeter. Ya know how many shots it takes to kill a demon?"

"Torean, I-"

"Do ya, lad?" His voice was firm and loud.

He glared. "No."

"Twenty-six." He moved to the next cabinet and picked out a shotgun. "This is a double barrel with explosive holy water rounds. How many do ya think it'll take to kill one demon?" Bon shrugged a shoulder stubbornly. "Eight." The exorcist placed it back and pointed at the rifle in his hand. "Gertrude there can fire a single, blessed, fifty caliber silver bullet. How many of those do ya think it takes to kill a demon?"

"One," he said reluctantly.

"If ya have to use that gun, one chance is all ya get, lad. Best remember that."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ohmygod I am SO sorry for making you guys wait this long for an update! And my knowledge of guns is really limited, so I'm sorry if I mangled the ending. Anyway, those edits I talked about in the previous chapters are done. I had to rewrite some of Bon's prologue and, for those that don't want to reread it, know that the doctor is going to **give him his exorcist license after he completes the two month internship at the Elysian**. I'm assuming he can do this since he's a member of the Grigori, but I could be wrong. Thanks for reading!


	11. oh well

**#333- Rin  
****oh well  
****A City of Pigs #6  
**He woke to an ache in his back and the soft, rhythmic snore of his roommate. Rin had taken to the stone bed while Amaimon seemed to prefer the haystack set up in the corner of their home. It was dark, though not so dark that Rin couldn't see. Light poured in through the open windows by their door, casting hard shadows on the gray walls. It was always bright outside in the city; lights never dimmed and were replaced as soon as they burned out.

The exorcists let them know when night came with a harshly enforced curfew. According to Asterius, (who was kind enough to put up with a barrage of questions), anyone caught wandering around the city after the exorcists changed their shifts would be executed...or at least scolded. If it weren't for their shift changes, no one would know what time it was. Not that it really mattered to him. It felt like Rin had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted, though he quickly realized most demons didn't want to spend _their_ time with him.

Some didn't like him for his demon blood and yet others came to him seeking advice and he was happy to help in any way he could, like the exorcists. But when he got near them or tried to play with them, most hissed and cursed his existence. He knew they were just afraid – Demons were disgusting and dangerous. The exorcists didn't want to play with him, either, and yelled at him from the other side of the gate. When he tried to play with Amaimon, he was bit and almost strangled, and Asterius was _far_ too scary for him to even consider making an attempt.

In the end, Rin was left alone with nothing to do, just like everyone else.

Rin rolled over and covered his head with his blanket, hoping to fall back asleep quickly. As he began to doze, a loud sound startled him. He sat up so fast his head spun. It was a terrible, angry scream, one that echoed off the barren stone walls so it seemed like a dozen others were giving answer. It woke Amaimon and their neighbors, creating a low, concerned murmur outside their home. The earth demon cursed loudly and kicked the door open.

"Hey, what's going on?" Rin hopped out of his bed and followed him, jogging to keep up with his long, annoyed stride.

Amaimon ignored him and rounded the corner to the main path. He hesitated when he saw a large crowd of demons gathering around the fountain, but clenched his fists and continued. As they approached, Rin could make out anxious, excited whispers. "He's gone mad." "Think they'll kill him?" "I hope so." "All demons deserve to die."

He pushed himself up to his toes to gaze over the top of the demons in front of him and saw an exorcist pointing a gun at something on the ground. Overwhelmed by curiosity, he shoved and maneuvered his way through the crowd for a better view. The exorcist was pointing his rifle at a demon laying on the floor, his lower leg muscles removed and sown to his thighs. Startled and disgusted by the sight, Rin stumbled back, hand over his mouth.

_What the hell happened?_

"Don't make me do this, Ebil! Git back to yer house!" the exorcist commanded in a frightened voice covered with anger. Ebil, he assumed, hissed and flicked his tail, struggling to move. "I said git!" He stepped forward, but it only made the demon angrier.

"Let me out!" He shouted, voice strong yet trembling. "I won't let you torture me anymore! I want to go home!"

"You don't even know what a home is, _swine_." Rin looked up at Amaimon, perched on his fountain. "Be quiet and drag yourself back to bed."

"**You!**" The demon tried to pull himself to his knees and turn his disfigured body, but he grimaced in pain and fell toward the crowd. Everyone, including Rin, scrambled backward to avoid him. The barrel of the exorcist's gun followed his clumsy movements closely. "This is _your_ fault! You _know_ what they're doing to us and you _let_ them get away with it! You keep us locked in here, playing your silly games like we're _toys_!" He spat in disgust.

Amaimon's face was smooth and unreadable. "I'm locked in here too," he was uncharacteristically calm, "Or are you too selfish to realize your king is just as much of a prisoner as you?"

Ebil scoffed in disbelief and slowly pulled himself away, back toward the exorcist. "_I'm going to get out of here_..." He turned his eyes to the glass structure at the top of the city. "_Doctor_! Can you see me? I won't be your patient anymore! I'm going back to Gehenna!"

Rin's back stiffened. His bottom lip trembled and he bit it. He balled his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. It was like his body knew what was going to happen, like it was preparing.

"Doc?" The exorcist pressed a hand to his ear, as though someone were speaking to him. "Can ya walk?" The question was directed at Ebil, who glared in response. "Nah." There was a slight pause. "Ya sure? Lad hasn't even clocked in yet – Ya really want him to see this? Alright, then." He glanced back at the main entrance. "Lad, if yer squeamish, cover yer eyes." He raised the rifle to his shoulder and, before anyone could react, shot the demon right between his eyes.

He collapsed, but didn't die immediately. Instead, his body convulsed and made odd noises as his face bubbled and melted. The crowd watched in complete silence. After a moment of flailing and writhing, he was finally expelled from his host, though his limbs continued to twitch as the holy water ate away at his flesh. The exorcist nudged the corpse with his foot, confirming his death, and then made his way back to the gate. No longer finding the sight interesting, the crowd began to disperse, returning to their homes to start their mornings.

Rin, unexpectedly steady, sat on the base of the fountain and looked up at Amaimon. "What just happened? Why... Why did he want to leave?" It seemed strange to him – They had everything they could ever want down here, so why did he want to leave the exorcists' protection? He couldn't understand and it felt like the harder he tried to think about it, the more his head ached and throbbed.

"Pärsens!" Amaimon, again, ignored him and called to a trio of similar girls as they passed. Rin tilted his head when he noticed they were attached by iron shackles fitted around their ankles and that two of them were wearing sunglasses underground. "You didn't tell me. We had an agreement – If the doctor does anything outside his research, you _tell_ me!"

"It must've slipped my mind when you forgot to feed me." The girl in the center flipped her hair and they turned their backs to him.

"Hag," he spat under his breath as the girls walked away. "This is why I hate women." He jumped down and motioned for Rin to follow. "Understand now?"

"...Understand what?" Amaimon gritted his teeth and growled at his response.

Rin quietly followed him to the main gate. "Torean!" He kicked it, causing the chain-link door to rattle.

"_What_?" The bearded man placed a hand on his hip and regarded Amaimon with annoyance. "Need me to wipe yer arse?"

He scoffed. "As if you're worthy of touching me."

"Don't give me none of that sass, _king_. I ain't in the mood. Now, whattaya want?"

"Food." Rin's stomach growled and he instantly perked up. Yesterday, he wasted all his available tags on small food servings. If he didn't participate in the fights today, he would go hungry. He desperately hoped his generous roommate had mercy for him in spite of their dislike of each other since he was still new to the city.

Torean seemed to lose some of his anger. "For who?"

He knew it would be impolite to interrupt their conversation, so instead, he pointed at himself. Amaimon rolled his eyes and ignored him. "The sisters."

"Ya want me to bring 'em somethin' specific?"

Amaimon hummed and pretended to think, tapping his chin contemplatively with one long, black claw. "A pig's head."

The exorcist couldn't hold back a laugh. "Yer an ass."

"It's a warning." His eyes suddenly met Rin's and he sighed. "Fine, and something for this idiot, too." He snarled when Torean didn't move. "_Now_!"

He shook his head and shouted over his shoulder to someone with a strange hairstyle. Rin's entire body went rigid when he saw his face. The exorcist that walked up to Torean was surprisingly young, considering most of the exorcists he's seen so far had wrinkling skin or graying hair. He was new, obviously by the look on his face, and didn't seem to be older than twenty. They stared at each other intensely for a long time. Rin noticed something sad in his eyes, something distant and hidden. But then his stomach growled, and all thoughts of the newcomer were gone from his mind.

"Hi," he greeted politely, smiling brightly in the hopes that he would be given an extra serving for his good behavior. "I'm Rin!" The exorcist didn't respond. He scrunched up his face like Rin's words had burned him and abruptly turned away to the elevator.

"Rin!" Amaimon's voice was hard and furious.

"Best be going, lad." The exorcist sat in the available stool in front of the computer and eyed him. "Ya don't want to make the king angry."

* * *

**Pärsens belongs to ****ProbableImpossibilities**


	12. sinister stranger

**#27E- Suguro, Ryuji  
****sinister stranger  
****A City of Pigs #7  
**He turned his head when Torean executed the demon. Not because he was afraid – No, he had watched low level demons suffer the same fate several times before in and out of the classroom. What made him look away was how _human_ it appeared.

And yet, as he rode the slow elevator back to the lobby, the demon's death wasn't even on his mind.

How could the residents of the city, after seeing something like _that_, still trust in exorcists? Was it such a common sight that it didn't even make them slightly suspicious of their supposed 'protectors'? He hated them for their sheepishness.

Now, he understood why the doctor had made the elevator ride so slow; there was nothing to distract them from the day's events. He wanted the images and sounds to sink into the exorcists' minds as they returned to their rooms. The thought made him sick and he tried to focus his attention on something else.

There was obviously some sort of symbolism to the pig's head that Bon didn't understand. He assumed he would figure it out eventually, not that he was eager, and concentrated on retracing his steps to the cafeteria.

As soon as he dug out his new security card for the scanner, the double doors slid open. Bon stepped back, startled at first by the sound and then by the doctor's presence. "Oh, Suguro, perfect timing!" Dr. Rascalov smiled brightly, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. "I was going to tell you about this later, but I suppose now would be fine."

"_Right now_? I have to get back to work – I'm still on the clock."

He waved a hand to dismiss his words. "You need a break after witnessing such a _terrible_ act of violence, don't you?" His voice had a sinister, mocking bite that made Bon incredibly nervous. "Come, it won't take that long." The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him in. He followed reluctantly, unable to defy him.

The cafeteria was always open and staffed. Most meals were made to order, but smaller things like cakes and sandwiches were available for exorcists to take with them either into the city or back to their rooms. However, the facility had strict rules for food. Employees were allowed to take only one of each item a day, including bentos or lunch boxes. Dinner was the only thing that did not come free, but was also the most generous with its portions. Meal tickets were given out after completing a shift. Each item was received by scanning a security card and recorded in the computer's database. Anyone caught taking more than what was allowed would have their license revoked.

This was, apparently, how the doctor rationed food between the exorcists and the demons.

Like the rest of the facility, the cafeteria's walls were bare, lacking posters or windows. Tables and benches were bolted to the floor. And everything was the same, gray color, even the dishes and utensils.

Bon was worried he wouldn't be able to recognize colors by the time he returned to True Cross.

Dr. Rascalov sat down at one of the nearby longtables and patted the space on the bench beside him. He blew at his coffee and took a small sip. "Cecil makes the best Brazilian coffee. Would you like to try some?"

"No, thank you," he responded quickly, afraid to make eye contact.

He hummed in thought and took another sip. "I shouldn't have spoken to you so harshly yesterday. I know Rin is your friend, and I know it's hard to see him like this… But I think I've come up with a brilliant way to apologize to you."

Bon looked up from his hands, but knew the doctor wouldn't allow him to deliver the letters his friends wrote.

"Since you're still in school, I would like to give you the opportunity to communicate with the rest of your class through letters and tell them of your experiences here."

This took him by surprise. "_Really_?" His _experiences_? What the hell did the doctor expect him to do; write about how a demon had it's guts spilled over the floor for disobeying some rule Bon didn't even know about? No, he couldn't tell them what was really happening here. Most of them expected the city to be a utopia for demons and, while _they_ thought it was, it wasn't. And Moriyama... She would be devastated.

The doctor smiled, as if amused by his unsettled expression. "Yes, of course. I'll deliver them to the pilot of our supply plane once a week. You can write whatever you'd like, but I would like you to refrain from sending pictures or sketches of the facility or the city." He took another sip from his cup. "Actually, I would prefer you not to tell them about the Elysian at all, but that seems unavoidable, so I'll let you decide what you would like to tell them."

Good, Bon was going to tell them as little as possible and blame the lack of information on the doctor. "Thanks, Dr. Rascalov."

Bon tried to find something positive in his situation - Mail would be slow, but writing and receiving letters would give him something to look forward to when he returned to his room. He would write to Konekomaru. He checked his mail constantly because of his American penpal, so he wouldn't miss any letters from Bon and his responses would be neat and orderly and quick.

He nodded and placed his cup down. "Now, Suguro, why _are you _in the cafeteria during your shift? Are you hungry? I don't mind that you explore since you're a new addition, but I'd like you to do it on your free time."

Bon was given six hour shifts each day so he could return to his room to study or focus on his schoolwork and get a good night's rest, although the latter seemed like it would be impossible with all that he'd experienced so far. The exorcists worked in twelve hour shifts, only taking breaks to fetch food, use the bathroom, or retrieve things for demons as they requested them. He decided there was no harm in asking for the doctor's help. "I, uh, was sent here to get a pig's head."

That made him laugh. "A _pig's head_? What is it with Amaimon and his obsession with pigs? This is certainly no task for a child, but I suppose you'll have to learn sooner or later." He stood and left his coffee. "I'll get it for you."

So that _was_ Amaimon...

As he watched the doctor disappear into the door that led to the kitchen, he wondered how he was going to get his hands on stationary to write his initial letter. All the exorcists worked on portable tablets and computers rather than paper and pen for security reasons. But before he could come to a decision, Dr Rascalov returned carrying something wrapped in a cream-colored tarp. He placed it down in front of Bon. It smelled rotten.

"I'm not sure if I should be more worried about Amaimon wanting a pig's head or that we actually had a fresh one." He shrugged shyly and picked up his cup. "I'd rather not stay around it and I have a patient to return to, so if you'll excuse me. Oh, and I'll have someone deliver supplies for your letters to your room. You can start working on them tonight if you'd like. A helicopter comes in tomorrow with my newest order if you want to have it delivered then." He didn't wait for Bon to respond and left the cafeteria.

Bon gagged on the scent as he carried the bundle back down to the city. "What took ya so long, lad? C'mon, in ya go. The fate sisters live in six-g." Torean quickly entered the code into the keyboard that unlocked the gate.

"Whoa!" Bon dug his heels into the ground to stop Torean from shoving him inside. "You want me to go in _by myself_?" He could feel his hands trembling.

Another exorcist behind him at a small table laughed. "They won't hurt you."

"He's right, lad. Just avoid eye contact and you'll be fine." He sat back down on the stool. "If ya need me, just scream really loud, alright?" Bon glared at him but he just waved his hand.

With an angry grunt, he pushed the gate open and walked into the city. He immediately noticed that the scent of the head he carried attracted the demons. They came out of their homes, jumped down from their roofs, eyed him hungrily as he passed. Nervous, Bon stared straight ahead of him, concentrating on his quick footsteps. But, as he neared the center of the city, he couldn't help but slow his pace and look around at the demons that approached tentatively. Some were cleaner than others, some had human hosts, some had their tails chopped off, some had missing limbs or eyes, some had their hair cut uneven, but all of them looked hungry. They sniffed the air and licked their lips.

He was so distracted by his surroundings, he didn't hear when the king jumped down from his throne and bumped into him. Startled, Bon scrambled back slightly, tightening his grip around the cloth. Amaimon glared at him, but he showed no fear and glared back.

The king had a face Bon would never forget. It was _his_ fault Rin had to draw his sword, _his_ fault Rin was captured, **his** fault Rin was sentenced to a lifetime in this abhorrent prison. Bon would **never** forgive him for what he did and hoped he would have the opportunity to somehow show him how much he ruined _their_ lives, not just Rin's.

He hoped for the demon's sake that Yukio would be more forgiving.

"Who are _you_? I've never seen you before." The king circled him, sniffing.

It took all he had not to throw the rotting meat at him. "You don't remember me, _king of earth_?"

Amaimon tilted his head, all emotion gone from his face, as he searched his memory. "I only remember the faces of important people. But," he cupped the side of Bon's face, tracing his thumb against the stubble on his chin. He had to stand on his toes to be eye level with the exorcist. "What is your name?" His voice was a whisper and Bon could feel his breath on his face.

Instantly, all the anger burned away, replaced by panic. "Suguro."

"Hmm, Suguro." He leaned forward, eyes dangerous. "Would you like to come back to my home? I think you'll make a wonderful rug."

"Ya know what else makes nice rugs?" A rifle barrel appeared under the demon's chin, forcing him away from the exwire. "_Lizard_." Amaimon snarled at Torean, lips pulled back over his teeth. "I can't have ya lowerin' our numbers, king. Lad's all we got in return for Mikael."

Bon struggled to breathe again.

"Mikael deserved everything that he got." In one swift movement, the demon returned to his perch atop the fountain. "If I could turn back time, I'd make his death worse."

"That don't mean ya can go around scaring our fresh meat." Bon flinched at the word, the pig's head suddenly heavy in his hands.

Amaimon stuck a finger in his mouth and sucked. "Scare him? What makes you think he doesn't want to go back with me? I don't think I'm unattractive, Torean."

"Eh?" He tilted his head to get a better look at Bon's red face. "Ya fancy boys, lad?"

It took his panic-ridden mind a moment to process Torean's question, but when he did, he flew into a rage. "**No!**" It wasn't that Amaimon had caught his interest, but the scent of his breath and the gentle caress of his fingers had made his mind wander uncontrolled to less than innocent thoughts. The man tossed his head back and laughed loudly, his entire body shaking with his guffaws. His face reddened as a few other demons that had gathered to watch snickered with him.

"You'll let him come back with me then? Just for a night." Amaimon purred.

Torean wiped a tear from his eye and sighed. "King, if the lad went with ya, he'd end up in yer stomach." Bon clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. He wouldn't show fear anymore, lest he give the demons something else to mock him about.

"Please," he scoffed, as though the exorcist had offended him. "Only some of him. The rest I would leave for Asterius." It was then that Bon noticed the seven-and-a-half-foot-tall minotaur casually watching them from the other side of the fountain.

"Sorry king." He wrapped an arm around Bon, but he shrugged it off quickly and violently. "I rather like the new lad."

Amaimon rolled his eyes. "You ruin all my fun, Torean."

He grinned. "That's me job." He shoved him into a walk with the butt of his rifle. "Let's go, lad. The sisters are waiting."

After a moment of walking, Bon turned to him with a scowl. "I didn't scream."

"Are ya sure about that?" Torean's grin only made him grit his teeth harder.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So Amai has poisonous breath...according to Wikipedia. I wonder if it smells bad? Probably. Thanks for reading!


	13. dirty

**#333- Rin  
****dirty  
****A City of Pigs #8  
**"Hey, Asterius?" In the short time that Rin had been in the city, he had grown accustomed to asking the minotaur all his questions. It seemed like he was the only one who was willing to give him a clear answer or explanation without glaring at him or making that odd hissing noise the other demons were so fond of. He also liked how Asterius called him 'lord', but he wouldn't admit that aloud.

"What now, my lord?" The demon didn't look up from his hooves. Asterius was one of the few demons that had 'half-host' bodies. When Rin asked, he mentioned something about his host not being able to contain all of him, but he didn't understand what that meant and had stopped listening. He often voiced his dislike for his body and the tedious task of picking dirt and gore loose from the crevices of his hooves that came with it. Amaimon didn't like dirty demons in his city, apparently.

"Look at that girl over there." Asterius pulled himself up to the stone roof, more out of obligation than curiosity.

It took Rin a while to get the hang of climbing up the smooth surface of their wall, but once he was there, he realized why most of the demons spent their days on their roofs: it was easier to see the city as all the houses save for his were the same height. He could even see Amaimon perched on his fountain from where he sat.

"Which one?"

"That one with the brown hair." He pointed and the minotaur followed his finger.

The girl was fairly young, older than Rin but younger than Asterius. She had long, brown hair that hung in matted clumps around her shoulders and back. Rin found it strange how she fidgeted like something was eating her skin: she tugged at her scalp, scratched herself violently, and even nibbled at her tail occasionally. The brown fur that covered her tail was beginning to come off in patches and, even at this distance, he could see the raw skin underneath, red and irritated.

"It looks like she has fleas," he mused aloud.

"_Fleas_?" Rin questioned incredulously. The exorcists protected them from _everything_ down here so it seemed impossible for her to be harboring bugs.

"Perhaps." He turned away from Rin. "Let's get a closer look." He followed the demon as he jumped down and made his way to the girl's home.

Rin had to jog to keep up with Asterius' long strides. "How do you think she got them?"

"I assume she had them before she arrived and the exorcists didn't notice." He rounded the corner quickly, not missing a beat. It was something that seemed familiar to Rin, something that annoyed him. Asterius didn't have to act so serious all the time. He's just like...like..._like who_? He couldn't finish the thought. "Fleas are hard to see to untrained human eyes."

"Oh," he dragged out the word, though he didn't particularly care.

The walk to her home was short and quiet, but Rin didn't mind. He liked watching all the demons interact with each other. Sometimes it looked like they were trying to rip out each other's throats when they rolled around on the floor, but Rin just assumed they were practicing for the fights tomorrow or when the exorcists needed their help. He wanted to play too, but remained on Asterius' heels, afraid they would hiss at him again.

"Hello?" Asterius kicked the stone structure with a hoof. It made an odd sound as he did. The girl peered over the edge of her roof, growling at them. Some of her hair had collected around her mouth.

"Go away, demon!" She spat, trying to scratch at the back of her head with a clawed foot. "I don't want anything to do with your kind! Beast! _Swine_!"

Rin's anger flared as she continue to spew curses at him. Asterius was a good demon, though a bit uptight, and hadn't done anything to hurt anyone. "Hey, don't talk to him like that!"

Her eyes flicked over to him and she laughed once cruelly. "As if _you're_ one to talk! You're just as much of a _filthy demon_ as he is!"

He clenched his fists. "I am _not_ a demon! I'm Rin!"

"Eh?" She snorted, an ugly sound. "You fool, you're a dirty demon! Now get away from me before I call the exorcists!" She disappeared back to her spot on the middle of her roof and made grunting noises as she gnawed at the bugs eating her flesh.

Rin chewed on his bottom lip, reflecting on what she had said. "My lord," Asterius gently nudged him away from the girl. "Don't let her words bother you." Rin frowned as they made their way toward the fountain. "We should inform His Grace. He'll want to do something about this before the infection spreads."

Amaimon looked down at them as they approached. "Thirsty?"

"No." Rin used a spoon to scoop up water. He scrubbed at his skin, his face, his hands, but the feeling of being dirty wouldn't leave him.

"Your Grace, one of the residents seems to have fleas."

"_Fleas_?" He tsked and jumped down. "Take me to her."

* * *

**Author's Note: **WHOA we're back! Anyone remember this story? No? Oh, ok. Anyway, this chapter is a poor one to come back on, but it sets the scene for the next couple chaps which I think are important in revealing more about Amai's emotions. Thanks for reading and sorry about the wait!


	14. mercy and other useless things

**#001- Amaimon  
****mercy and other useless things  
****A City of Pigs #9  
**The infested girl wouldn't come willingly, so he dragged her by her hair. Violently tugging on her scalp, and pulling out a handful as he did, Amaimon yanked her to the front of the city. She kicked and screamed, cursing him and trying to bury her claws into his flesh, but Asterius bound her hands and helped lead her to the gate. Torean let out an exhausted sigh when he saw them. The young exorcist from earlier, Suguro, sat anxiously at the computer. Amaimon remembered his name easily enough – not many exorcists had the courage to stand up to him when he was playing with them.

"Whaddya want now, king?" Amaimon slammed down six tags and slid them under the plexiglass window that separated the exorcists from him. Suguro picked them up individually and scanned each one into the computer. Torean watched over his shoulder, pointing and giving him a few instructions Amaimon wasn't concerned about hearing. He turned back to the girl, who bared her fangs at him. Furious and fed up with her behavior, he slapped her. She lowered her head and remained quiet. "Alright, lad, what'll it be?"

"A bath, soap, towels, a brush, new clothes, and medicated shampoo."

"Ya got all that, lad?" Suguro made a few clicks before Torean flicked him on the back of his head. "No, ya ding-dong, go back!"

Amaimon was becoming impatient. If they didn't hurry, she would gain her confidence back and try to claw at him again. He didn't mind beating her, it was fun, actually, but she was worthless so it would be a waste of time and effort. "Hurry up!"

The exorcist snapped at him. "Keep yer breeches on! Lad's new!"

He kicked the chain-link gate, making a loud noise that attracted the attention of nearby demons. "_I don't care_! I'm not wasting any more time on this pig than I have to! Open up!"

"Done." Suguro turned and picked up the tablet. He pressed a few more buttons, the sound irritating the demon king even more, before the gate clicked open.

"Asterius," he called over his shoulder as he pulled the flailing girl to the elevator. "You're in charge until I get back."

The infested swine finally relaxed as they were escorted to the elevator. She managed to wiggle out of her bonds and pried Amaimon's hand from her hair as they waited for it to come down. Now free, she hurried over to Suguro, clutching his arm as if _he_ would protect her. She kept a close eye on her king, growling at him from a distance, from the safety of her exorcist. Suguro was taken aback by her abrupt grasp but didn't do anything to push her away. He gave Amaimon the same glare she did. Was all this really necessary? He was only trying to keep bugs from infesting the city, a job that the _exorcists_ should be doing before they admit any and every single demon they get their hands on. But he assumed Demetri did this on purpose just to piss him off. Unfortunately, it was working, and rather well, too. He cursed the doctor and stepped into the elevator.

"So, Suguro. Do you like it here? Is this place everything you hoped it would be?" He wanted an answer to this question, wanted to see what kind of person this exorcist _really_ was.

He didn't answer immediately and stared down at the city until the view disappeared and turned to the steel of the elevator shaft. Finally, he spoke, his voice sullen. "I hate demons. But I don't want this."

"Ohh?" The demon hummed in thought. "You're a coward, then? Just like Torean? I suppose that's why the doctor paired you up."

"Be quiet, _monster_!" The cowering girl snapped at him. "You don't have a right to talk to him like that."

Amaimon snarled and gave an ugly face that made her draw back further into the exorcist's protective presence. "One more word from you and I'll cut out your tongue!" She pressed her lips together firmly and he felt his sudden anger subside.

The rest of the ride to the facility was silent save for the occasional hiss from the girl. He ignored her and followed the exorcist as the doors slid open. Suguro had to repeatedly glance at his tablet and down the halls they passed to find his way to the public bath that only the demons had access to. It wasn't as well taken care of as the exorcists' bathhouse and was located at the far end of the facility, away from the elevator where it would be convenient. The doctor didn't hesitate to take everything away from them: their bath had no running water aside from the faucet that worked to fill the large tub at the back of the room, some of their tiles were loose and cracked, their buckets had holes, their soap was old and dry, they were given towels with holes and mold, and they had no where to store their clothes or sit while they washed.

Suguro opened the doors for them and allowed them inside, though he had to shove the girl in and yank his arm away to break free from her grasp. He left to fetch the supplies Amaimon requested, locking the doors behind him. The girl banged on them, screaming for him to come back, like he had just left her to die. And maybe she would if Amaimon's patience didn't last. It's not like anyone would miss her or notice she was gone. Maybe Demetri would if he was doing an experiment with fleas and demons.

"Come here!" Amaimon grabbed her roughly and threw her to the floor. Tiles slid under her, sharp, broken ceramic digging into her reddened flesh. He landed on top of her and proceeded to strip her of her tattered and infested clothing, dodging her wild swipes as he did. Once she was nude, he shoved her into the corner with his foot and went to fill the bath. The water was lukewarm and ran out before the entire tub could be filled, but it would be enough. She scratched at her skin and picked at the little black bugs while they waited for Suguro to return.

The exorcist paused to ensure the doors were locked before he placed down a wooden bucket that contained various toiletries. "Okay," he mumbled to his tablet. "Soap," he removed a tiny bottle of body wash. "Medicated shampoo," a small, white bottle with a plainly typed label on it. "Towels," Amaimon noticed they were new and smelled fresh. "Brush," the bristles were straight and clean. "And female clothes."

Amaimon scrunched up his face as he looked down at the items placed before him. "You _do_ know that demons have a separate inventory, right?"

Suguro stood and frowned at him, but wasn't angry. "It's just a bath."

He cocked his head, trying desperately to understand the reasons behind his actions. Amaimon just assumed the boy was either rebellious or incredibly stupid. "Hold her. She'll squirm less with you here."

The exorcist led her gently and slowly to the bath before Amaimon became impatient and kicked the pig in. Suguro panicked and tried to catch her but missed. She slipped and knocked the back of her head on the edge of the tub. _Perfect_; the impact would make her dizzy for a while so he could work without worrying about her trying to attack him. He shoved the exorcist aside and dumped a generous amount of soap on a small, wet towel. Amaimon scrubbed at her skin roughly, causing the bugs to flee and land in the water. Soon enough, it was dotted with hundred of black specks. He shoved her entire head under the water to rinse the suds from her body, holding her there for longer than necessary.

"Stop," Suguro's voice was surprisingly steady. "You're going to kill her!"

He scoffed. "_So_? Who cares if she dies?" The exorcist opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out.

She was conscious when she came back up, screaming and clawing at him. Suguro grabbed her shoulders and held the girl in place, but she continued to struggle against them both.

Amaimon debated giving her another concussion, but the exorcist was holding her well enough. He poured half the shampoo on the top of her head and, with unnecessary force, scrubbed her scalp, pausing repeatedly to remove loose hair from his hands. After washing her tail in a similar manner and dunking her into the water again, she gave up and allowed him to do whatever he needed without fussing or complaining. Suguro drained the bath as she dried herself, examining the scabs on her legs and picking off dead skin that Amaimon had missed.

Once she was dressed, he turned the bucket over and commanded her to sit. She glared at him, but did as he asked. The back of her head had a significantly large bald spot where most of her hair had been pulled out. "Maybe we should cut it," Suguro suggested.

"She'll be fine. No one will notice." Why waste more time and materials on someone who didn't deserve it?

"Whatever you say, king," he sighed, shrugging lazily.

He pulled the brush through her hair harshly, pulling out more loose strands and dead bodies of the fleas. She smelled strongly of medical soap and it made him scrunch up his nose, but he dealt with it. There would be absolutely **no** bugs in his city, dead or alive. They reminded him of Astaroth, and he hated all his brothers except for his precious Aniue. Twenty minutes later, he was satisfied with his work. Her hair was much thinner than before, but it was free of tangles and bugs. He separated it into sections and began to weave them between each other. The locks twisted and turned until the entire length of her hair was pulled back into a neat braid. Amaimon took a band from his pocket and tied it securely at the end. He stood abruptly when he was done and walked away from her.

"I'm finished. Take me back." He waited as Suguro collected everything into the wooden bucket, eager to get away from the scent of soap.

The girl continued to keep her distance, still hiding behind the exorcist, but she pawed at her hair gently, as if she liked what he had done to it. He became angry when she touched it, and if she continued, he would have Asterius rip the damn thing from her head and hang it on the fountain for everyone to scorn.

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**Author's Note: **Gonna be honest, I got lazy with editing this chapter. Please let me know if you find any inconsistencies or spelling/grammar mistakes. Thanks for reading!


	15. crown of copper

**#27E- Suguro, Ryuji  
****crown of copper  
****A City of Pigs #10  
**"Do you think he cares about the other demons, Torean?" Bon sat down on the stool in front of the idle computer and watched as the two demons snarled and spat at each other. Amaimon returned to the fountain while the girl jumped up to one of the nearby roofs.

"Eh? Who, the king?" Torean rubbed his beard. "It's hard to say whether he's doing it to prolong life in the city or because he doesn't want them fleas himself."

Bon placed the tablet down and ran his fingers across it, thinking deeply. After a moment of tapping the black screen, he turned to the computer. He brought up the search page and typed in Amaimon's name. The results showed a profile picture, an image of the engravings on his tag, his current status, and how long he has been inside the city.

_Amaimon  
__#001  
__House #4C  
__Status: None  
__Duration: Six months, twenty-two days_

"Whaddya think, Sherlock?" Torean's sudden voice startled him. The old exorcist gave him a toothy grin.

He tapped his fingers against the stone desk a few more times, rereading the demon's information over and over. "I think...he's been here for so long he's forgotten what it's like to be a demon."

"Maybe. He's a good king." Torean leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. "Might be he don't know what a king is anymore, but he tries to keep everyone in here alive. It's a little sad, though. They're blind to his efforts because he's a demon. Sometimes it seems like he's the only sane one in the entire city." His words made Bon feel pity for Amaimon. "Anyway, don't worry about him. King can take care of himself." He placed a hand on Bon's shoulder. "Yer shift is up. Ya did good for today. Go see the doc to get yer meal ticket and then get some rest."

"Okay." It took him a moment to find the strength to move his legs.

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**Author's Note: **Some speculation from Bon and Torean about why Amai doesn't act like a cold-hearted demon. What do you think? Are they right? Is Amai half crazed from captivity? I posted two chapters at once so don't forget to read the previous chapter! Thanks for reading!


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